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By  Lady  Gregory 


Irish  Folk-History  Plays 

First  Series :    The  Tragedies 

Grania.     Kincora.     Dervorgilla 

Second  Series :    The  Tragic  Comedies 

The  Canavans.     The  White  Cockade.     The  Deliverer 

New  Comedies 

The  Bogie  Men.  The  Full  Moon.  Coats.  Darner's 
Gold.     McDonough's  Wife 

Our  Irish  Theatre 

A  Chapter  of  Autobiography 

Seven  Short  Plays 

Spreading  the  News.  Hyacinth  Halvey.  The  Rising 
of  the  Moon.  The  Jackdaw.  The  Workhouse  Ward. 
The  Travelling  Man.     The  Gaol  Gate 


'The  little  old  mud  cabin  by  the  hill." 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

A  PLAY  FOR  KILTARTAN  CHILDREN 


By  lady  GREGORY 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  MARGARET  GREGORY 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

Xtbe  iknicherbocftet  press 

1916 


Copyright,  19  i6 

BY 

LADY  GREGORY 


tCbc  'fftnfcfeerboclJer  ipresa,  mew  l^orft 


GEORGE  BERNARD  SHAW 
The  Gentlest  of  My  Friends 


866143 


PERSONS 


The  King  of  Ireland 

Simeon  Maor 

His  Doctor 

The  Witch 

Pampogue     .... 

The  Gardener 

Fatach  Mor 

Bridget        .... 

muireann    .... 

RURY  .... 

The  King  of  Spain's  Two  Sons 
Servants  and  Guards 


His  Steward 


Her  Daughter 

The  Giant 

His  Wife 

The  King  of  Spain's  Daughter 

The  King  of  Ireland's  Son 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


"The  Little  Old  Mud  Cabin  by  the  Hill"         .     Frontispiece 
Rury:    It  Is  like  the' Smoke  of  Elder-wood.     We  will  Go 

ON. 

Simon:    Wait  awhile — My  Heart  is  Panting.     I  Thought 

the  World  was  Going  down!     .....       30 

"Fru,  Fra,  Fashog!    I  Smell  the  Smell  of  a  Melodious 
Lying  Irishman!" 42 

"Would  you  Put  him  to  the  Trouble  to  Make  a  Staircase, 

Cutting  Notches  IN  the  Backs  OF  MY  Legs?"        .         .      58 

"Play,  Little  Harp  of  Willow  Wood,  that  Lived  Sleepy 
with  Love  of  your  own  Likeness  and  your  Shadow  in 

the  Stream " .76 

vii 


viii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"Rury!    Rury!    Where  are  you?"  ....       88 

"Come  back  to  me,  and  it  will  be  a  Garden  again,  and 

NOT  A  Placeof  Nettlesand  Elder  and  Corncrakes  "        .       98 

"I  WOULD  Say  it  to  be  Running  through  my  Veins — It  is 
Going  to  the  Cockles  of  my  Heart — I  Think  I  Am  out 
OF  THE  Body  AND  IN  THE  City  OF  THE  Sun "     .         .104 


THE   GOLDEN   APPLE 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 


Act  I.     Scene  I. 

The  Witch's  garden.  A  little  tree,  Centre,  with  leaves  and 
blossom  and  one  golden  apple.  A  well  before  it.  Gardener 
potting  plants.     He  is  singing  a  little  song.     He  bends  over  well. 

Gardener.  What  way  is  it  with  you,  my  poor  little  five 
fishes?  Looking  up  to  the  sunbeams  ye  are.  Is  it  that  ye 
remember  yet  the  King's  Court  in  Spain?  I  am  thinking  ye 
have  sense  and  memory  like  any  person  walking  the  earth. 
Are  you  saying  it  is  long  ye  are  here  in  the  garden,  through 
seven  springs  of  planting  and  seven  summers  of  growth? 
{Sings  another  verse.)  Have  patience  now  and  the  young 
lady  your  sister  will  be  coming  to  visit  you  and  to  speak  to 
you  unknownst  to  the  Witch.  Ah,  you  draw  down  under  the 
water  hearing  that  word !  Is  it  that  you  are  saying  she  done 
Druid  tricks  on  you,  changing  your  shape  and  bringing  you 
from  your  country,  and  the  little  Tree  of  Power  along  with 
you?  It's  a  pity  now  some  to  have  too  much  talk,  and  ye 
that  are  a  king's  sons  having  none  at  all  of  it.     It  is  likely 


2  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

enough  living  down  in  that  well  ye  will  grow  blind  and  deaf 
in  the  heel.  Five  little  red-mouthed  trouts!  That  is  a  bad 
way  for  a  king's  sons  to  be! —  Mind  yourselves  now. 
It's  the  Witch  is  after  coming  from  her  journey.  {He  sings 
and  works.) 

{Witch  comes  on.  She  is  wearing  a  cloak  of  badger 
skins,  and  a  mask  with  long  teeth  and  a  pair  of 
goat's  horns.) 

Witch.     What  way  is  the  little  tree? 

Gardener.  The  best.  I  have  it  well  cared.  I  am  after 
putting  a  prop  to  it.  If  you  would  not  support  the  head  the 
neck  of  it  would  be  staggery. 

Witch.  Blossom  on  it  and  an  apple — the  golden  apple 
that  will  cure  any  sickness  at  all  or  any  wound. 

Gardener.  Well  cared  I  have  it;  flowery  above  and  not 
cranky  in  the  stalk  the  way  some  trees  do  be. 

Witch.  I  have  a  mind  to  shift  it  and  to  plant  it  under  my 
own  window  pane  where  I  can  be  looking  at  it  every  day. 

Gardener.  It's  best  leave  it  where  it  is,  and  not  to  be 
combing  or  rising  the  roots. 

Witch.  It  has  too  much  of  shades  and  of  shelters.  It 
was  used  to  the  country  of  the  sun. 

Gardener.  Wait  till  the  month  of  March  comes  at  it  and 
you'll  see  it's  a  great  persecuting  it  will  get,  and  it  not  to  be 
minded  the  way  it  is. 

Witch  {throwing  off  her  cloak  and  mask).  Hide  that  under 
the  branches.  It  is  my  daughter  is  coming — {Pampogue 
enters.)     Come  hither  to  me,  Pampogue. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  3 

Pampogue.     You  are  come  back  to  the  garden? 

Witch.     I  am  always  glad  to  come  back  within  its  walls. 

Pampogue.  Walls !  So  there  are  enough  of  walls  around 
us. 

Witch.  It  is  a  good  shelter  for  yourself  they  are  as  well  as 
for  the  little  tree. 

Pampogue.  I  wotJd  sooner  be  outside  whatever  way 
it  is,  than  to  be  closed  up  with  no  company  but  green 
plants. 

Gardener.  Sure  the  seeds  we  sowed  will  soon  be  flourish- 
ing up.  There  will  be  roses  and  posies  and  every  sort  that  is 
pretty  blooming  out  all  around. 

Pampogue.  I  am  seven  times  tired  with  the  sight  of  your 
roses  and  posies  and  of  the  white  sun  itself  going  up  and 
going  down. 

Gardener.  You  will  not  find  the  seven  days  of  the  week 
too  long,  and  some  king's  son  to  come  courting  you. 

Pampogue.  It  is  near  time  indeed  for  some  one  to  bring 
me  out  from  this. 

Witch.  Don't  be  in  so  great  a  hurry,  child,  to  go  out  into 
the  dangers  of  the  world. 

Pampogue.  You  yourself  go  out  gathering  news  or 
making  news  far  and  wide.  It  would  be  more  fitting  I  to  be 
doing  that,  and  you  that  are  up  in  age  to  be  sitting  spinning 
at  the  wheel. 

Witch.  No,  I  will  not  do  that.  I  to  begin  to  give  in  to 
age,  it  is  likely  it  would  run  through  me  too  quick. 

Pampogue.     Bring  me  out  with  you  so.    I  would  like  well 


4  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

to  travel  among  neighbours  and  to  go  visiting  at  country 
houses  by  the  roadside. 

Witch.     Have  patience,  child,  for  a  while. 

Pampogue.  To  be  with  myself  only  I'd  think  the  day  as 
long  as  a  year!  Where  is  the  benefit  of  all  the  power  you 
own,  when  you  cannot  get  me  settled  in  a  good  place.  It  is 
time  for  me  to  be  giving  out  food  to  company  and  keeping 
the  keys  of  a  house. 

Witch.  I  did  not  see  the  husband  yet  I  thought  to  be 
worthy  of  you. 

Pampogue.  You  never  gave  me  a  sight  of  any  one  at  all, 
only  the  gardener.  All  the  fair-haired  men  I  hear  talk  of, 
finding  comrades  on  the  round  world,  and  I  myself  hidden 
from  them  among  trees ! 

Witch.  It  is  foretold  to  me  it  is  love  for  some  man  of  the 
round  world  will  put  you  under  trouble  and  torment.  Wait  a 
while,  and  when  the  right  stars  will  be  up  in  the  heavens  I 
will  find  you  a  lucky  match. 

Pampogue.  You  are  making  excuses  with  your  stars !  I 
to  have  been  seen  before  this  I  would  have  my  choice  of 
husbands ! 

Witch.  You  have  very  proud,  hardy  talk!  Is  it  Splen- 
dour, son  of  the  King  of  the  Greeks,  you  are  looking  for,  or 
the  King  of  Prussia's  son? 

Pampogue.  You  to  have  given  me  royal  blood  it  would 
be  easy  for  me  make  a  match  with  a  king's  son. 

Witch.  There  is  not  a  woman  of  my  race  that  had 
not  a   king  under  her  feet!     But   as  to  yourself,   I  will 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  5 

give  you  no  leave  at  all  to  wed  with  any  man  of  Adam's 
race. 

Pampogue.     I  heard  it  said  my  father  was  of  that  breed. 

Witch.  If  he  was,  it  is  on  his  account  I  am  at  war  with 
the  whole  tribe  of  men,  striving  to  draw  away  their  life. 

Pampogue.  If  you  pleased  yourself,  why  would  not  I 
please  myself  in  a  man? 

Witch.  Do  so,  and  he  will  leave  your  heart  to  walk 
barefoot  over  a  hard  highroad  of  flints. 

Pampogue.  Is  it  that  you  are  looking  for  some  man  in 
the  fairies  for  me  ?  Or  gone  out  of  the  body  ?  Or  one  coming 
from  the  country  Underwave,  having  a  skin  the  colour  of 
coal? 

Witch.  I  have  no  desire  to  give  you  up  at  all.  If  I  had, 
as  to  matches,  I  was  offered  one  but  yesterday. 

Pampogue.     Who  was  that? 

Witch.     Fatach  Mor  the  Giant 

Pampogue.     He  has  a  wife  of  his  own. 

Witch.  He  is  but  the  matchmaker.  It  is  for  a  friend  he 
came  asking,  that  is  coming  to  his  castle  looking  for  a 
wife. 

Pampogue.     Has  he  a  good  way  of  living? 

Witch.  He  has  put  a  rent  upon  the  whole  of  Scotland. 
There  are  some  say  he  has  laid  it  upon  the  birds  of  the  air. 

Pampogue.     Is  he  a  natural  man? 

Witch.  He  is  nearer  to  the  class  of  the  giants.  He  is  the 
Grugach  of  the  Humming. 

Pampogue.     Is  he  anyway  well  looking? 


6  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Witch.  Middling  only.  Wait,  and  I  will  find  you  a 
better  match  in  a  quarter  or  three  quarters  of  a  year. 

Pampogue.  I'll  take  him.  To  see  the  daffodils  sprouting 
in  this  place  again  it  would  surely  bring  me  to  my  death. 
Gardener ! 

Gardener  (coming).     What  is  it? 

Pampogue.  I'm  going  out  of  this!  I'm  going  to  make  a 
great  match !  I  will  never  come  inside  a  garden  again,  but  be 
driving  in  carriages  through  crowded  streets. 

Gardener.     Is  that  a  fact? 

Pampogue  {to  Witch).  You  will  want  to  give  me  some 
good  clothes.  Let  them  be  made  the  same  as  the  King  of 
Spain's  daughter  had  the  time  you  brought  her  here.  A 
cloak  of  the  colour  of  the  foxglove  she  had,  and  roses  worked 
around  the  hem  of  her  skirt. 

Gardener.  So  she  had.  There  is  nothing  left  to  her  now, 
only  her  little  golden  mittens.  There  was  no  one  but  would 
turn  his  head  to  look  at  her. 

Pampogue.  There  is  no  one  would  look  at  her  now. 
She  is  nothing  at  all  in  her  suit  of  a  girl  of  the  ducks  and 
ashes.  Get  me  clothes  the  same  as  she  had  till  I'll  show  out 
well. 

Witch  {to  Gardener).  Go,  seek  some  bundles  of  silks  and 
satins  are  inside  the  door  of  the  house.  Bring  here  the 
serving  girl  with  you.  {Gardener  goes.)  You  can  make  your 
choice  of  the  dearest  sort  of  silk  that  is  pleasing  to  you. 

Pampogue.     Let  the  girl  herself  sew  the  dress  for  me. 

Witch.     She  will,  and  you  will  become  it  well.    Turn  up 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  7 

yotir  hair  now  and  make  a  ball  of  it.    It  is  true  enough  you 
are  grown  out  of  being  a  child. 

{Muireann  comes,  dressed  in  tattered  sacking,  with 
Gardener  who  carries  bundles.) 

Pampogue.  Rinse  now  the  dirt  from  off  your  hands  the 
way  they  will  be  fit  to  handle  silk  clothes. 

Muireann  (showing  her  hands).  They  are  roughened 
with  the  sods  and  ashes,  but  they  are  clean. 

Witch.  Look  now  at  these  silks  that  are  the  grandest 
nearly  in  the  world.  You  have  to  shape  and  to  sew  a  dress 
for  Pampogue  such  as  they  wear  at  the  Court  of  Spain. 

Muireann.     It  is  long  since  I  saw  a  suit  of  the  kind. 

Witch.  Put  your  mind  to  it  now.  This  dress  must  be 
made  ready  by  evening,  by  the  time  of  the  gathering  of  the 
crows. 

Muireann.     I  think  that  is  not  enough  of  time. 

Witch.  That  is  sluggishness.  If  the  work  is  not  done  by 
then  your  bed  will  be  the  iron  harrow. 

Pampogue.  If  it  fails  her  to  do  this,  bid  her  go  clean  out 
the  seven  cowhouses  that  never  were  cleaned  for  seven  years. 

Muireann.     Give  me  thread  and  needles. 

Pampogue  {to  Gardener).  Give  her  a  few  threads  from 
that  pound  ball  that  is  tied  to  the  stem  of  the  tree. 

Witch.  There  are  needles.  Have  a  care  of  them.  My 
father  gave  me  the  full  of  a  ship  of  them,  and  I  lost  none  and 
broke  none  and  there  are  but  those  five  left,  where  they  are 
all  worn  out  sewing  and  making  and  mending  my  clothes. 
{She  goes.) 


8  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Pampogue  {watches  girl  work.  Takes  up  scissors).  What 
call  has  a  girl  carrying  turf  and  herding  geese  to  have  on  her 
such  a  head  of  hair?  {Snips  a  lock  from  it.)  There !  {Throws 
it  on  grass.)  The  birds  will  take  it  to  be  hemp  or  oakum  and 
will  carry  it  away,  lining  their  nests.  {She  tries  to  cut  another 
lock.) 

Muireann.  Do  not  touch  it !  If  I  am  poor  in  the  world 
to-day,  it  was  a  queen  was  used  to  smooth  out  that  hair. 

Pampogue.  It  is  much  if  I  leave  you  your  golden 
mittens. 

Muireann.     It  is  only  my  hand  they  will  fit. 

Pampogue.  Be  civil  now  and  mannerly  and  maybe  I  will 
bring  you  to  attend  me  and  sew  my  clothes  where  I  am 
getting  a  great  match  out  in  Scotland. 

Muireann.  I  was  brought  to  this  place  by  the  pov^^er  and 
the  spells  of  the  witch  that  is  your  mother.  It  is  all  one  to  me 
where  I  go,  or  do  not  go,  as  long  as  I  am  not  free  from  that 
power. 

Pampogue.  You  are  loth  to  leave  your  little  brothers 
maybe  in  the  well. 

Muireann.  There  is  no  one  in  this  place  under  sorrow 
but  only  themselves  and  myself. 

Pampogue.     Give  me  a  thread  of  your  threads. 

Muireann.     Here  it  is,  and  a  needle. 

Pampogue.  No,  it  is  a  pin  I  am  wanting.  Here  now  is 
one.  I  will  crooken  it  and  put  a  berry  on  it  and  go  fishing  for 
pinkeens  in  the  well.  There  is  nothing  at  all  in  the  fashion, 
they  were  telling  me,  but  gloves  made  of  the  skin  of  a  fish. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  9 

Muireann  (jumping  up  and  seizing  thread) .  You  will  get 
no  leave  to  do  that !  The  Witch  herself  will  get  no  leave  to  do 
it !    Go  away  out  of  this ! 

Pampogue  (spitefully  and  frightened).  There  now,  you 
have  the  five  needles  lost !  I  will  go  tell  of  you  that  through 
crossness  and  through  spite  you  cast  them  down  into  the  well. 
You  will  surely  be  sent  cleaning  out  the  seven  cowsheds! 
(Goes.) 

Muireann.     My  grief  and  my  sorrow ! 

Gardener  (coming  forward).  That  one  would  spit  out 
poison  would  wither  up  the  grass ! 

Muireann.     Did  you  hear  her  tormenting  me? 

Gardener.  I  did.  I'd  sooner  a  venomous  mist  to  come 
and  to  slaughter  the  crops.     She's  as  cross  as  a  bag  of  weasels. 

Muireann.  She  threatened  to  cast  down  her  line  and  her 
hook,  and  I  started,  and  lost  the  Witch's  needles  in  the  well! 

Gardener.    That  she  may  be  worse  this  day  twelvemonth ! 

Muireann.  I  cannot  get  a  view  of  them  at  all.  They  are 
stuck  down  in  the  sand  and  in  the  stones. 

Gardener.  That  herself  and  all  belonging  to  her  may 
wither  off  the  face  of  the  earth  1 

Muireann  (with  a  shout  of  joy) .  They  have  brought  them 
back  to  me !  My  needles !  Every  one  of  the  five  little  fishes 
put  up  his  head,  and  he  having  a  needle  in  his  mouth  1 

Gardener.     Is  that  a  fact? 

Muireann.  Aren't  those  now  the  good  little  brothers? 
By  and  by  when  the  work  is  ended  I  will  play  a  little  tune 
to  you  that  we  used  to  hear  in  our  father's  house. 


10  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Gardener.  It  is  a  hard  thing  you  to  be  left  to  the  kind- 
ness of  fishes.  It  is  a  king's  son  in  his  own  shape  should  be 
coming  to  your  aid. 

Miiireann  {standing  np).  It  is  near  the  fall  of  evening. 
Look  at  the  flight  of  the  wild  ducks  across  the  sky.  {A 
soimd  of  cawing.)  There  now  are  the  crows  gathering  to  the 
high  elms. 

Gardener.  Whisht !  They  travel  far.  I  am  listening  to 
their  news  of  the  world. 

Muireamt.  I  am  lost  now  and  destroyed.  I  have  made 
no  way  at  all  with  the  work.  The  Witch  will  show  no  kind- 
ness. She  will  put  trouble  and  hardship  on  me  through 
the  night.  But  I  will  not  give  in  to  her  to  shed  tears  or  to 
give  out  any  cry  at  all!     {Gardener  laughs) 

Aluireami.     It  is  a  bad  time  you  choose  for  laughing! 

Gardener.  There  is  many  a  one  would  laugh,  having 
knowledge  of  the  talk  of  the  birds. 

Muireann.     Teach  it  to  me  so. 

Gardener.  I  will  do  that.  I  learned  it  from  a  blue  hawk 
that  was  my  grandmother. 

Muireann.  A  while  ago  there  was  no  one  would  laugh, 
the  time  I  would  be  under  any  of  the  little  troubles  of  a  child. 

Gardener.  There  is  news  will  set  a  man  laughing  at  any 
time  because  he  knows  it  will  turn  to  good. 

Muireann.     Is  it  news  that  will  help  my  case? 

Gardener.  It  is.  It  is  news  of  a  dying  king.  {He  goes 
off  singing  his  little  soyig.) 

{Muireann  sits  down  and  sews  desperately.    Gardener 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  ii 

comes  hack  dressed  as  a  ragged  messenger  with 
broken  breeches  and  tattered  shoes,  his  ears  stick- 
ing through  his  cap.) 

Gardener.     I  am  going  a  journey. 

Muireann.  Oh,  bring  me  along  with  you!  Bring  me 
away  from  the  Witch's  garden ! 

Gardener.  It  would  be  no  use.  You  cannot  stir  un- 
knownst  to  her. 

Muireann.     I  would  run  fast,  very  fast. 

Gardener.  Old  as  she  is,  she  is  as  supple-walking  in  her 
limbs  as  a  young  girl. 

Muireann.     I  could  hide. 

Gardener.  You  could  not.  She  is  a  very  fierce  woman. 
There  is  not  a  wall  in  any  part  would  keep  you  safe  from  her 
rage. 

Muireann.     There  is  no  help  for  me  so. 

Gardener.     It  is  time  for  me  get  it  for  you. 

Muireann.     What  way  can  you  travel  so  far? 

Gardener.  I  didn't  live  these  seven  years  under  a 
witch  without  learning  some  of  her  trade.  There  are  wild 
geese  on  the  wing  to-night.     It  is  along  with  them  I  will 

go- 

Muireann.     Oh,  will  you  save  me  out  of  this! 

Gardener.     I  promise  you  that.     I  give  you  as  bail  the 
four  quarters  of  the  heavens  and  of  the  sea  and  of  the  land 
against  my  own  body  and  my  soul!    {Goes.) 
{Witch  and  daughter  come  in). 

Witch.     Where  are  the  needles  I  gave  you? 


12  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Muireann.  They  are  here.  I  am  sewing  with  one.  The 
rest  are  stuck  in  my  mitten. 

Witch  {to  Pampogiie).  You  deceived  me,  saying  she  had 
lost  them,  and  bringing  me  here  from  my  rest  that  I  was  in 
need  of,  where  the  day  was  long  on  me. 

Pampogue.  She  has  not  the  sewing  near  done.  Send  her 
to  clean  out  the  seven  sheds. 

Witch.  Keep  quiet.  I  am  tired  with  your  peevishness. 
I  will  listen  to  no  more  of  your  talk.  Mind  yourself,  girl! 
I  will  let  you  off  punishment  to-night,  but  the  rods  will  be 
ripe  and  ready  for  you  to-morrow ! 

{Witch  and  daughter  go.) 

{Muireann  takes  her  little  silver  pipe,  bends  over  well, 

and  plays  "  The  little  old  mud  cabin  by  the  hill.'") 

End  of  Scene  L,  Act  L 


Act  I.    Scene  II. 

A  room  in  the  Court  of  the  King  of  Ireland.  The  King  lying 
on  a  bed.  Doctor  sitting  beside  him.  Servants.  Simon  Maor 
comes  in  and  looks  at  him. 

Simon.     Is  there  life  in  the  King  yet? 

Doctor.     There  is,  but  hardly. 

Simon.  He  shrunk  greatly  in  the  days  past.  He 
reduced  very  much  in  the  face. 

Doctor.  No  wonder  in  that,  and  he  lying  on  the  bed 
through  the  three  quarters  of  the  year.  He  never  made  a 
laugh  since  he  was  in  it.    It  is  a  heavy  wound  he  got. 

Simon.  It  was  bad  to  him  to  be  beat  in  the  battle.  And 
his  seven  packs  of  hounds  at  the  same  time  to  be  swept  from 
him  and  lost. 

Doctor.  It  was  worse  to  him,  the  two  eldest  sons  to  be 
killed  in  the  same  fight  where  he  got  the  wound. 

Simon.  The  son  that  is  left  to  him  is  worth  the  whole  of 
them. 

Doctor.  He's  not  much.  It's  hard  lead  him.  The  father 
himself  is  more  apt  to  take  my  counsel  and  advice.  It  is  long 
till  he  will  be  fitting  to  be  King. 

13 


14  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simon.  It  is  not  long  till  he  will  be  that.  That  old 
remnant  in  the  bed  lost  a  power  of  money  over  you,  but 
there  isn't  left  of  him  now  but  the  same  as  a  shadow  in  a 
bottle.  Not  an  oimce  of  flesh  on  him,  but  only  skin  and 
bones. 

Doctor.  He  would  be  a  great  loss  to  Ireland.  I  might 
bring  him  around  yet. 

Simon.     It  would  maybe  give  him  relief  to  quit  the 
world.    To  die  in  your  bed  is  the  safest  death.    It  would  be 
nearly  a  pity  he  not  to  go,  and  all  prepared  so  nice. 
{A  servant  brings  in  a  sheepskin.) 

Doctor.  Give  that  to  me.  {He  takes  skin  and  begins  to 
wrap  it  rotcnd  King.) 

Simon.     What  skin  is  that? 

Doctor.  The  skin  of  a  sheep  that  is  after  being  killed, 
fresh  and  warm.  I  am  about  to  wrap  it  about  his  body.  It 
might  put  some  heat  into  his  blood. 

Simon.     Whose  orders  were  those  to  go  killing  a  sheep? 

Doctor.     My  own  orders,  as  the  King's  doctor. 

Simon.  If  you  are  itself,  I  am  the  King's  steward.  I  wiU 
bear  no  meddling  with  my  flocks. 

Doctor.  I  will  meddle  and  have  a  right  to  meddle,  where 
it  is  for  the  service  of  the  King. 

Simon.     Out  of  what  flock  did  they  go  bring  it? 

Doctor.  Tush!  What  way  would  I  know?  A  sheep  is  a 
sheep — a  four-footed  beast  in  the  field,  and  mutton  when  it  is 
served  on  the  table.  When  it  is  but  the  skin  I  am  in  need  of, 
it  makes  no  difference  what  sort  they  will  go  kill. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  15 

Simon.  It  makes  a  big  differ  to  myself.  A  doctor  that  is 
stuck  in  the  house  has  no  call  to  interfere  with  the  stock. 
Let  me  see  now,  did  you  take  one  of  the  culled  ewes  I  have 
ready  for  October  fair,  or  the  wethers  I  am  fattening  against 
Shrove?    {Pulls  at  sheepskin.) 

Doctor,     Don't  be  stirring  it  now,  letting  In  the  draught. 

Sifnon.  I  wouldn't  begrudge  a  horny  hogget  from  the 
mountain;  a  hardy  class  that  go  foraging  on  furze  and 
heath. 

Doctor.  I  tell  you  I  don't  care  what  it  is  so  long  as  it  has 
warmth  within  it,  and  a  weighty  fleece. 

Simon.  A  weighty  fleece !  {Feels  it.)  Have  a  care ;  is  it 
my  Ormond  ram! 

Doctor.  I'll  tell  the  King  on  you,  and  that  you  begrudge 
him  his  own. 

Simon.  I'll  tell  the  King's  son  you  went  killing  and 
destroying  what  will  be  his  own !  It's  likely  it  will  not  be  this 
King  will  be  reckoning  the  lambs'  tails  next  Easter! 

Doctor.     He  might  not  be  as  near  it  as  you  think. 

Simon.  Signs  are  he  might.  It's  the  world  will  be 
changing  around  you.  I  tell  you  a  true  word,  it  is  not  every- 
body would  drink  your  medicines ! 

Doctor.     Go  on  now  till  he'll  hear  you !    He  is  wakening. 

{King  feebly  stirs.) 

Simon.  There  is  hot  stones  on  the  hearth.  Wait  till  I 
will  put  them  to  his  feet.  {He  brings  stones  and  puts  them  at 
end  of  bed.) 

King.     Where  is  Rury,  my  son? 


i6  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Doctor.  Out  hurling,  1  suppose ;  or  fowling  with  his  horse 
and  his  dog. 

Simon.  He  never  was  far  out  in  the  country  since  the 
bad  turn  came,  but  around  the  gardens  and  the  house. 

King.  Send  out  looking  for  him.  He  is  all  the  son  that  I 
have. 

Simon.  And  you  are  all  the  father  he  ever  had.  He 
dotes  down  on  yourself. 

Doctor.  It  is  natural  a  young  lad  to  be  sporting  and 
rambling. 

Simon.  You  know  well  that  through  the  night  time,  and 
the  King  sleeping,  he  was  sitting  by  the  brink  of  the  bed. 

Doctor.  If  the  King  would  charge  myself  with  any 
message  to  him,  or  any  commands  as  to  his  behaviour,  there 
would  no  mistake  be  made. 

Khig.     Is  it  certain  I  am  going  out? 

Doctor.  I  am  striving  to  keep  the  life  in  you.  I  have 
death  baulked  and  baffled  up  to  this.  I  have  kept  him  back 
from  the  pillow,  but  he  is  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

{A  horn  heard.) 

King.     What  is  that? 

Simon.  It  is  the  big  horn  is  at  the  grand  gate.  It  is  long 
since  it  was  sounded  out  before. 

Doctor.  It  is  likely  it  is  some  king  sending  to  ask  news  of 
your  health. 

King.     A  king  is  it? 

Doctor.  I  would  say  by  the  sound  it  is  one  of  the  big  men 
of  the  world. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  17 

King.    Put  me  sitting  up  against  the  pillow. 

(Doctor  and  Simon  raise  him.) 

Doctor.     Take  care  would  you  let  him  slip  down? 

King.    What  is  this  you  have  put  around  me? 

Doctor.     The  skin  of  a  sheep  newly  killed. 

King  {with  a  roar).  Is  it  that  you  thought  me  to  be  dead 
that  you  dared  to  dress  me  up  as  a  sheep?  Is  that  the  way 
you  have  made  me  a  fool  of  so  soon  as  you  thought  my  senses 
to  be  gone? 

Doctor.     It  was  the  skin  that  brought  you  around. 

Simon.     It  was  not,  but  the  hot  stones. 

King.  A  sheepskin !  Had  you  no  lion  from  the  Eastern 
World  to  go  skin,  or  a  bull  itself  would  be  sending  out 
challenges,  tearing  up  the  sod  with  his  horns? 

Doctor.     I  thought  to  be  doing  what  was  right. 

King.  Let  ye  put  some  face  upon  my  bed!  Kings  do 
not  die  like  flies  in  a  heap,  one  the  same  as  another.  Every 
king  has  a  separate  death,  and  should  have  it !  How  would 
you  know  what  time  it  would  be  put  in  a  story  or  a  song? 

{They  arrange  armour  and  rough  skins  about  his  bed.) 

Doctor.  Here  is  the  big  shield,  the  Wheel  of  Battle.  I 
will  put  it  beside  your  hand. 

King.  Let  in  now  the  king  or  the  king's  messenger  that 
is  come  maybe  from  Arthur  of  Britain  or  from  the  Crown  of 
France. 

{Door  is  opened  and  Gardener  appears  in  his  dress  as 
a  ragged  man.) 
Who  is  that? 


i8  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Doctor.     A  ragged  green  man ! 

Simon.  Broken  breeches  on  him,  and  puddle  water  in 
his  shoes. 

Doctor.     Tiirn  him  out ! 

Simon.     Put  him  out  the  door! 

King.  Let  the  crows  make  their  supper  of  him  to-night ! 
{All  push  him  towards  door.  Rury  appears  coming 
in  and  pushes  him  back.) 

Doctor.     Who  is  stopping  him? 

Simon.     It  is  Rury,  the  King's  son. 

Rury.  He  is  a  messenger.  He  has  the  right  to  give  his 
message. 

Gardener.     I  have  an  advice  to  give. 

King.     Is  it  sent  by  a  comrade  king? 

Gardener.     It  is  not. 

Doctor.     Are  you  doctor  to  any  king? 

Gardener.     I  am  not. 

Simon.     Or  steward  to  any  king? 

Gardener.     I  am  not. 

Simon.     Then  you  have  no  word  that  is  worth  saying 

Rury.     Let  him  speak. 

Gardener.  The  birdeens  of  the  air  brought  word  where  I 
was  that  the  King  of  Ireland  is  all  but  in  the  grip  of  death. 

Doctor.  It  is  no  wonder  the  birds  themselves  to  be  cry- 
ing him. 

Gardener.  It  is  not  crying  or  keening  they  were,  but 
laughing. 

King.    What  is  he  saying? 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  19 

Gardener.  Laughing  to  think  there  is  a  great  king  going 
out,  and  he  not  sending  some  messenger  to  the  lucky  apple 
tree  in  that  place. 

Rury.     What  way  would  that  help  him? 

Gardener.  The  cure  of  the  world  is  in  it.  There  is  a 
golden  apple  on  that  tree  would  raise  a  man  it  had  failed  all 
the  d6ctors  to  rise. 

Rury.     Is  that  a  true  story? 

Garde7ier.  It's  as  true  as  I'm  telling  you.  To  make  a 
sound  man  of  him  it  would,  and  to  give  him  lengthening  of 
life. 

Kmg.     It  is  hard  to  believe  it  at  all. 

Doctor.  With  all  the  cures  I  am  doing  through  the  years 
I  never  heard  of  it. 

Simon.     Who  is  it  owns  the  apple? 

Gardener.  It  is  owned  presently  by  the  Witch  that  is 
called  in  Ireland  the  Hag  of  Slaughter,  that  has  it  robbed 
from  the  Royalty  of  Spain. 

Rury.     Is  it  east  or  west  the  garden  is? 

Gardener.  It  is  not  knowledge  of  the  roads  will  bring 
you  to  that  far  foreign  place  that  is  called  Garrdin-dearead-an 
domhain,  the  Garden  at  the  World's  End. 

{Rury  goes  aside,  puts  on  cloak,  takes  up  and  tries 
some  weapons.) 

King.     It  should  be  a  long  way  off. 

Gardener.  To  go  for  the  apple  and  to  get  the  apple  and 
to  bring  it  to  this  place  would  need  the  length  of  a  year  and  a 
day. 


20  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simon.     Will  the  King  last  out  that  long? 

Doctor,  ril  engage  to  keep  him  for  that  time  through 
the  power  of  my  physic,  that  is  maybe  as  good  as  apples  in 
the  heel. 

King.  If  you  do  not,  I  will  leave  it  in  my  will,  every 
doctor  in  Ireland  to  be  hanged! 

Simon.     And  who  now  will  go  look  for  the  apple? 

Gardener.  It  is  a  man  having  courage  should  do  that. 
There  is  a  giant  in  the  way,  Fatach  Mor.  There  is  danger  in 
passing  by  his  house. 

Simon.  I  wouldn't  think  much  of  giants ;  I  never  heard 
of  a  giant  having  stock  enough  to  keep  a  steward,  or  a  herd 
itself,  employed. 

Gardener.     There  are  the  tricks  of  the  Hag  of  Slaughter. 

Simon.  The  people  do  be  full  of  stories  of  her.  But  I 
never  could  be  in  dread  of  a  witch. 

Gardener.  There  is  the  Wood  of  Wonders  to  be  passed, 
that  is  full  of  monsters  and  of  shadow  shapes. 

Simon.  I  never  would  believe  in  that  sort.  I  am  going 
about  through  the  dark  night  every  lambing  time,  and  I 
never  met  with  anything  worse  than  myself. 

Gardener.  There  is  the  Hill  of  Fire  to  be  crossed  that 
sends  up  a  blast  of  flame ;  and  the  Moimtain  of  Spearheads 
that  are  sticking  up  through  the  ground. 

Simon.  It  is  the  one  in  charge  of  the  King's  health 
should  go  in  search  of  what  will  stiffen  out  his  life.  We 
reckon  the  doctor  that  much  use. 

King.     Let  him  go  so  without  delay. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  21 

Doctor.  It  would  fail  me  to  do  it  in  the  time.  I  am  no 
good  stepper  on  the  road,  let  alone  upon  spearheads  and 
fiery  flames.    I  am  too  far  out  in  years. 

Simon.  It  is  lively  it  will  make  you.  There  is  no  one 
rightly  young,  only  those  that  will  travel. 

Doctor.     Send  out  the  captains  of  the  King's  army. 

King.  They  have  no  drill  or  preparation  to  protect  them 
against  unnatural  things. 

Simon.  The  Witch  to  change  them  into  grasshoppers 
they  would  be  crushed  under  the  weight  of  their  armour — 
and  they  to  shrink  so  much  in  bulk ! 

Doctor.  Let  you  yourself  go,  where  you  are  making  a 
mock  of  danger. 

Simon.  Is  it  I  myself?  What  about  my  hay?  My 
stacks?  My  haggard?  With  the  milk  to  be  regulated  and  all 
the  cows  that  are  about  to  calve ! 

Doctor.     You  are  in  dread  of  the  Giant  and  the  Witch. 

Simon.  I  am  not.  But  I  am  loth  to  meddle  with  apples 
after  what  happened  in  Adam's  Paradise.     {King  sinks  back.) 

Doctor  {to  the  servants).  It's  as  good  for  you  lay  out  the 
sheets. 

Rury  {coming  forward  and  speaking  to  Simon).  Take 
good  care  of  my  white  greyhound  till  I  come  back.  You  may 
put  out  the  horses  at  grass. 

Simon.     Where  is  it  you  are  going? 

Rury.  Keep  in  the  red  colt  through  the  heat  of  the  day. 
He  goes  crazy  when  the  flies  come  around  him. 

King.     You  are  not  going  away,  Rury? 


22  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Rury.     I  will  be  back  in  a  year  and  a  day. 

Simon.     Is  it  that  you  are  going  for  the  apple? 

King.  You  cannot  go.  It  is  not  according  to  right  rule 
the  heir  to  go,  and  the  King  himself  not  having  strength  in 
his  hand  to  notch  his  name  or  his  command  upon  a  stick. 

Doctor.  It  is  right  he  should  go.  Ever3^thing  that  can  be 
done  should  be  done  to  save  the  King's  life. 

Simon.  Is  it  that  you  have  it  in  your  mind  to  make  him 
banish  the  son? 

King.  I  crave  and  command  you  not  to  go  into  those 
dangers. 

Rury.  Who  would  not  to  hell  for  a  cure  if  one  belonging 
to  him  was  sick? 

Simon.     Hasn't  the  lad  great  courage? 

King.  I  will  not  let  you  go!  You  that  have  always 
earned  my  blessing  and  that  never  have  earned  my  curse. 

Rury.  Keep  your  heart  up  and  rouse  yourself,  and  you 
won't  feel  the  year  passing.  For  the  latter  end  of  the  world 
to  be  to-morrow  I  would  go  out  in  the  same  way. 

King.  Do  not  let  him  out  the  door !  He  will  never  bring 
his  life  away  out  of  all  that ! 

Simon.  You  would  as  easy  put  a  gad  aroimd  sand,  or 
keep  a  hold  of  a  simbeam  in  your  fist. 

Khig.  His  two  brothers  went  out  laughing,  and  it  was  to 
meet  with  their  death. 

Simon.  And  he  not  knowing  so  much  as  where  is  the 
garden ! 

Rury,     If  it  isn't  in  the  east  I'll  go  west,  and  if  it  isn't  in 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  23 

the  west  I'll  go  south,  and  from  that  again  to  the  north!  I 
will  not  eat  two  meals  in  the  one  place  or  sleep  two  nights  in 
the  one  bed  till  I  will  bring  back  the  cure  for  your  healing ! 

Simon.  Take  comfort,  King.  I  myself  will  go  with  him 
for  to  take  charge  of  him  on  the  road. 

Doctor.  That's  right.  The  King  will  give  you  the  lend  of 
him,  -Rury,  for  the  length  of  a  year  and  a  day. 

Simon.  I  will  walk  every  whole  step  of  Ireland,  but  I'll 
bring  him  back  safe  and  sound ! 

King.  Lift  the  flagstone  from  the  hearth  and  give  him 
out  the  sword  was  cooled  with  three  drops  of  lions'  blood. 

Simon.  Ask  him  along  with  that  to  give  you  the  costs  of 
the  road.  (King  points  to  a  purse,  and  Doctor  gives  it  to 
Simon.)  I  leave  it  on  the  King  this  is  travelling  charges, 
and  should  not  be  put  to  my  account  as  steward. 

Rury.  The  messenger  is  gone.  We  must  overtake  him 
till  we  learn  what  way  we  should  make  our  start  for  the 
Garden  at  the  World's  End! 

Simon  {to  the  Guard).  Let  you  strike  up  now,  boys,  the 
"  Shan  van  voght " ! 

{March  played.    They  go  out.    The  King  sinks  back 
weeping.     Doctor  stands  over  him.) 

End  of  Scene  IL,  Act  I. 


Act  I.    Scene  III. 

The  Wood  of  Wonders.  An  open  space.  Evening  darken- 
ing.    Witch  and  Pampogue  come  in  with  branches. 

Pampogue.  Is  this  what  they  call  the  roiind  world?  It  is 
a  lonely  looking  sort  of  a  place. 

Witch.  You  gave  me  no  rest  till  I  would  bring  you  with 
me,  and  now  you  are  not  content. 

Pampogue.    What  made  you  choose  this  wild  spot? 

Witch.     It  is  best  for  the  work  I  have  to  do. 

Pampogue.     You  didn't  tell  me  yet  what  is  that  work. 

Witch.  A  thief  that  is  coming  the  road  to  bring  away 
the  apple  from  the  garden.  What  I  have  to  do  is  to  put  him 
backward. 

Pampogue.  What  ails  you  that  you  cannot  rise  up  in  the 
air  like  a  mist  and  come  down  and  turn  him  into  a  green 
stone? 

Witch.  We  have  our  own  way  to  contend  with.  There 
are  some  things  it  is  hard  for  me  to  touch. 

Pampogue.  They  give  out  you  have  power  over  all 
things. 

Witch.     I  am  tmder  orders  like  the  rest.    There  is  an 

24 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  25 

order  that  we  cannot  meddle  with  the  royal  blood  of  Ireland, 
that  is  protected  since  the  time  of  the  Danes;  unless  it  will 
come  into  our  power  through  fear  or  through  tasting  our 
food. 

Pampogue.     Is  it  one  of  that  blood  is  coming  the  road? 

Witch.  Not  at  all — not  at  all — ^just  a  thief,  a  pair  of 
robbers.  It  will  be  easy  frighten  them,  putting  these 
branches  around  them,  that  they  will  think  themselves  to  be 
in  a  wood.  {She  makes  branches  into  bundles.)  To  drive  the 
wits  from  them  with  fear,  that  will  be  best  of  all.  I  will 
raise  a  sound  in  the  air,  they  will  think  it  to  be  a  storm  of 
wind. 

Pampogue.  Give  me  some  branches  to  be  shaking  at 
them.    I  will  flutter  up  my  apron  till  they  will  feel  a  blast. 

Witch.  Do  not.  To  hear  the  sound  of  wind  and  not  to 
feel  it  would  put  more  dread  into  the  heart. 

Pampogue.  What  made  you  gather  that  bag  of  rush 
cotton? 

Witch.     We  will  make  with  it  the  appearance  of  snow. 

Pampogue.  What  at  all  are  you  putting  around  you?  I 
never  saw  that  ugly  dress. 

Witch  {putting  on  badger  skin,  cloak,  and  mask).  That  is 
the  way  the  men  of  the  earth  have  me  pictured.  The  skin  of 
badgers  around  me  and  two  goats'  horns  going  out  through 
my  head. 

Pampogue.  I  would  not  like  to  be  looking  at  you.  Keep 
away  from  me. 

Witch.     That  is  the  story  they  give  out  about  the  Hag  of 


26  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Slaughter.  It  is  for  the  Hke  of  them  we  that  are  ever-living 
must  put  on  the  ugly  image  of  age.  Let  them  see  me  as  they 
have  made  me  out  to  be. 

Pampogue.     Whisht !    There  is  some  one  coming. 

Witch.  Come  back  here  out  of  their  sight.  {They  take 
tip  bushes  and  branches  and  stand  behind  them.) 

{Enter  Rury  and  Simon.) 

Simon.  I  wish  we  could  see  some  lodging.  There  is  a 
queer  sound  from  the  sky.  I  heard  like  a  blast  of  wind  that 
would  lay  the  thistles  low. 

Rury.     It  is  but  a  storm  is  rising. 

Simon.  To  come  a  sudden  darkening  of  the  light  there 
did. 

Rury.  It  is  but  a  cloud  over  the  moon.  You  are  losing 
courage  to  be  in  dread  of  that. 

Simon.  I  did  not,  but  sore  in  the  heart  with  walking  I 
am.  Aly  legs  are  near  worn  to  the  knee.  I  might  as  well  be 
a  car-wheel  on  the  road. 

Rtiry.  If  there  is  a  long  road  behind  us  it  is  likely  the 
road  before  us  is  longer  again. 

Simon.     The  soles  of  my  boots  is  near  wore  out. 

Rury.     They  will  have  to  last  a  good  while  yet. 

Simon.  They  will,  where  they  lasted  near  thirty  years 
already,  for  they  will  be  but  the  soles  of  my  two  feet. 

{Branches  waved  around  them.) 

Rury.  We  would  seem  to  be  gone  astray  in  some 
forest. 

Simon.     In  some  terrible  wilderness  of  a  wood. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  27 

Rury.  Hush!  I  am  thinking  it  should  be  the  Wood  of 
Wonders.    There  is  some  music  playing  of  itself. 

{A  wild  air  is  played.) 

Simon.  I  would  say  it  to  be  the  sea  roaring  as  if  all  the 
people  of  the  world  were  to  be  drowned.  Believe  me,  it  is 
best  for  us  turn  back. 

Riiry.  You  came  out  boasting  you  were  in  dread  of 
nothing. 

Simon.  I  am  not,  and  the  sun  to  be  in  the  heavens. 
The  day  is  getting  as  dark  as  if  all  the  men  in  the  King's  jail 
were  being  hanged ! 

Rury.     That  was  a  branch  fell  upon  my  head. 

Simon.  It  was  no  branch  fell  on  myself,  but  some  person 
hit  a  stroke  on  my  back. 

Rury.     There  is  no  person  here  to  do  that. 

Simon.     There  is  another — and  another! 

Rury.  Do  not  give  in  to  fancy.  There  is  no  one  hitting 
you  at  all. 

Simon.  It  is  you  yourself  is  doing  it!  It  is  an  imkind 
thing  doing  that! 

Rury.  I  feel  strokes  coming  on  myself.  They  are  given 
with  a  whip  of  thorns. 

Simon.     Turn  back  I  tell  you,  bring  your  life  out  of  this! 

Rury.  I  will  bring  it  out  on  the  other  side.  I  will  not  go 
doubling  like  a  hare. 

Simon.     There  is  a  lion  of  roaring! 

Rury.     I  wish  he  would  come  before  my  sword. 

Simon.     There  is  like  the  howling  of  red-haired  wolves! 


28  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

There  is  a  shiver  of  fright  going  through  me!  I  don't  wish 
to  be  killed,  where  I  was  not  brought  up  to  it  like  kings' 
sons. 

Rury.  We  cannot  lose  our  life  spending  it  in  dread  of 
death. 

Simon.  The  thirty  walls  of  heaven  to  be  lighting  bon- 
fires to  be  welcoming  me,  I  would  sooner  go  back  to  my  own 
parish. 

Rury.  The  doctor  wotild  make  fun  of  you  seeing  you 
now. 

Simon.  That  he  himself  may  be  put  under  curses  and 
spells  and  the  unnatural  creatures  of  the  air ! 

Rury.     All  L  would  ask  is  light  to  recognize  them. 

Simon.  Natural  things  to  come  against  me  I  would  not 
know  fear  or  fright —    Do  you  hear  that  now? 

Rury.  They  are  but  shapes  and  spirits.  They  can  do  us 
no  bodily  harm. 

Simon.     There  is  a  hand  touched  me. 

Rtiry.  It  was  of  no  living  person.  The  feel  of  it  was  like 
the  feel  of  ice. 

Simon.  There  is  like  a  shivering  come  upon  me — 
What  is  that  passed  by? 

Rury.  Three  bald  clowns  having  three  hounds  in  their 
hands  and  three  reddened  spears. 

Simon.     Who  is  there?    Keep  yourself  away  from  me ! 

A  Voice.  I  am  a  man  of  the  hurlers  without  heads. 
Four-and-twenty  men  of  us,  and  the  ball  we  are  playing 
with  is  my  own  head.    {Sound  of  sticks  upon  a  hall.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  29 

Simon.     I  wouldn't  wish  to  be  hiinted  through  Ireland  by 
hard  bristly  heads  without  legs! 

Rury.     What  do  you  want  of  us? 

Voice.     Dig  a  grave  for  us!    Dig  a  grave  for  us!    {They 
go  off.) 

Simon.     There  is  a  foot  with  a  spur  on  it. 

Riiry.     Take  that  foot  out  of  my  path!    {Strikes  at  it.) 

Another  Voice.     I  tell  you,  this  time  yesterday  there  was 
no  one  dared  meddle  with  that  foot ! 

Rury.     There  are  horrible  things  about  us! 

Ma7iy  Voices.     Go  back!    Go  back!   There  is  no  road  for 
you  here! 

{Witch  appears.) 

Simon.     Look  at  her,  look!     That  one  would  make  a 
hare  of  you !    She  is  the  Hag  of  Slaughter ! 

Rury.     I  will  never  turn  back  for  any  Witch's  bidding! 

A   Voice.     Many  a  better  thief  than  yourself  went  the 
same  journey  and  not  a  one  ever  came  back! 

{There  are  shrieks,  and  snow  is  thrown  about  them^ 
then  a  thick  smoke.) 

Rury.     It  is  like  the  smoke  of  elder-wood.    We  will  go 
on. 

Simon.     Wait  awhile — ^my  heart  is  panting.    I  thought 
the  world  was  going  down ! 

Rury.     The  smoke  is  clearing  away. 

Simon.     Oh!     There  came  a  smell  from  it  like  as  if  all 
the  dead  people  of  the  world  were  there ! 

{Smoke  clears  away.     Witch  seen  sitting  by  a  fire 


30  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

singing  a  lament.  She  is  not  wearing  mask  and 
horns,  hut  has  a  black  shawl  over  her  head.  Her 
grey  hair  is  hanging.) 

Witch.  Stop  here  and  eat  a  bit  with  me,  King  of  Ireland's 
son! 

Simon.  Do  not  stop  with  her.  She  is  no  way  pleasing  to 
look  at,  and  her  hair  down  to  her  heels. 

Ricry.  I  am  hurrying  on  my  journey,  I  have  no  time  to 
stop  in  any  place. 

Witch.  I  to  have  grandeur  about  me  and  a  grand  big 
dinner  to  give  you,  you  would  stop.  But  because  I  am  poor 
and  miserable  and  have  but  a  bone  to  offer  you,  you  will  not 
stop. 

Rury.     That  is  not  so;  it  is  that  I  am  in  haste. 

Witch.  The  man  that  will  not  show  respect  to  those  who 
are  low,  even  if  he  is  high,  he  will  get  no  respect  for  himself. 

Simon.  Do  not  stop  with  her!  She  will  work  on  us  a 
charm  or  a  spell!    {Witch  goes  on  keenhig.) 

Rury  {pushing  him  off).  It  is  a  habit  of  my  habits  never 
to  Hsten  to  the  call  of  a  lone  woman  without  getting  know- 
ledge of  her  case.    What  name  have  you? 

Witch.  My  name  is  Sighing  and  Sorrow,  Black  Night  of 
Winter,  White  Night  of  Snow;  Grief,  Groaning,  Keening, 
and  a  Grave! 

Rury.     What  is  it  ails  you? 

Witch.  Sit  down  till  I  will  tell  you.  Twelve  sons  I  had 
and  they  are  all  after  being  brought  away  to  their  death. 

Rury.     What  way  can  I  help  you? 


Rury:     It  is  like  the  smoke  of  elder-wood.     We  will  go  on. 
Simon:     Wait    awhile— my    heart    is     panting.       I     thought     the 
world   was   going    down! 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  31 

Witch.  Go  back,  bring  the  armies  of  the  King  of  Ireland 
till  they  will  go  against  the  armies  of  the  Bogheads  that 
brought  them  away. 

Rtiry.  I  cannot  do  that.  I  must  go  on  until  my  business 
will  be  done.    I  will  come  then  and  help  you. 

Witch.     You  are  deceiving  me. 

Rury.     I  never  left  a  lie  after  me  in  any  place. 

Witch.  Take  this  bone  in  your  hand ;  put  this  flesh  I  offer 
you  in  your  mouth. 

Rury.  I  will  not  deny  you  because  you  are  in  trouble  and 
grief. 

(Rury  is  putting  a  hit  in  his  mouth  when  Pampogue 
comes  behind  him  and  snatches  it  from  him.) 

Pampogue.  Use  none  of  her  food  or  you  are  a  gone  man ! 
It  is  best  throw  it  in  the  fire.     {She  throws  it  away) 

Witch.  My  seven  curses  upon  you,  you  have  freed  him 
when  I  all  but  had  him  in  my  hands ! 

Rury.  You  are  lying  to  me,  and  deceiving  me !  You  are 
no  lone  woman  wanting  help. 

Witch.  I  will  get  you  yet!  I  will  tear  the  heart  out  of 
you !  I  swear  it  by  the  earth  that  holds  the  graves  of  the  dead ! 

Rury.  There  is  no  fear  on  me.  I  know  who  you  are. 
You  are  the  Hag  of  Slaughter. 

Witch.  I  am  that!  And  I  tell  you  I  myself  will  set  the 
ravens  croaking  over  your  grave. 

Rury.  They  will  never  croak  and  call  out  in  Connacht 
that  I  was  brought  down  by  a  hag !  Have  a  care  now !  I  am 
loth  to  shed  the  blood  of  a  woman,  but  it  would  be  right  for 


^2  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

me  to  strike  at  a  witch !    {He  takes  Simon's  shoulder  and  goes 
off  waimig  a  sword.) 

Witch  (to  Pampogiie).  That  is  what  you  have  done  with 
your  meddHng  and  your  want  of  wit. 

Pampogue.  You  Hed  to  me !  He  is  a  king's  son.  I  would 
not  give  you  leave  to  put  poison  in  his  mouth. 

Witch.  Fool!  You  think  to  manage  me  and  to  set 
yourself  over  me!  It  was  no  poison.  It  was  the  food  that 
would  put  him  under  my  power  for  ever,  and  he  taking  and 
eating  it  from  my  hand. 

Pampogiie.  Get  him  into  your  power  again  and  put  the 
seven  spells  of  love  on  him.  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
your  Giants  and  Grugachs,  it  is  with  that  man  only  I  will  wed. 

Witch.  You  are  on  the  path  of  destruction  now.  My 
grief  that  I  let  you  leave  the  garden! 

Pampogue.     Go,  get  me  that  king's  son ! 

Witch.  Have  you  no  thought  at  all  for  her  who  cared 
and  reared  you,  and  gave  in  to  everything  you  would  ask? 

Pampogue.  Get  me  what  I  want!  You  filled  me  with 
the  things  I  did  not  want.    It  is  my  own  way  I  will  go  now! 

Witch.  It  will  be  a  bad  way  for  you  and  for  myself.  But 
take  your  own  way.  I  will  get  him  for  you,  if  striving  will  do 
it.  I  will  give  him  the  Golden  Apple.  It  will  buy  for  you  his 
love.  But  I  thought  the  man  was  not  born  in  Ireland  that 
wotild  stand  against  my  spells  as  he  did. 

{The  same  wild  music  is  heard.) 

End  of  Scene  III.,  Act  I. 


Act  I.    Scene  IV. 

A  room  in  the  Giant's  castle.  He  and  Wife  are  playing  Fox 
and  Goose  on  a  large  blackboard  with  chalk. 

Wife.  This  and  this  blots  out  that — and  one  for  the 
good  of  my  make.  I  rub  out  your  noughts  and  put  in  my 
own  crosses. 

Giant  {throwing  down  his  bit  of  chalk).  I'll  play  no  more 
Fox  and  Goose.    You  had  me  beat  last  time.    {He  yawns.) 

Wife.     What  now  would  you  wish  to  be  doing? 

Giant.  Couldn't  you  draw  down  a  new  story  or  an  old 
story  out  of  the  book. 

Wife.  The  History  of  the  Giants  is  it?  It's  a  holy  terror 
to  be  reading  them.  {Takes  book  and  sits  down.)  Which  now 
will  be  your  choice?  There's  as  many  of  them  as  my  fingers 
and  toes.  This  one  is  the  story  of  Fuath  of  the  Seven 
Heads  and  Seven  Humps  and  Seven  Necks,  that  was  one 
of  the  best  giants  ever  counted  in  Ireland. 

Giant.     I  heard  that  before. 

Wife.  You  did  not,  but  of  the  Scotch  giant  of  the  Seven 
Glens  and  Seven  Bens  and  Seven  Bogs. 

Giant.     What  now  did  he  do? 

3  33 


34  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Wife  (looking  in  hook).  He  used  to  be  dragging  six 
bullocks  by  their  tails  at  the  one  time,  and  to  go  harrow  the 
ground  with  the  bristled  body  of  two  wild  boars  he  would  tie 
to  the  two  strings  of  his  shoe. 

Giant.    Am  I  now  as  strong  as  that  one? 

Wife.    You  are,  to  be  sure,  my  dear,  you  are. 

Giant.     Sound  me  out  another. 

Wife.  Would  you  wish  Head-without -Body,  son  of 
King  of  the  Castles,  that  came  home  from  his  morning 
ramble  driving  seven  kings  in  a  gad? 

Giant.     Could  I  now  do  that  much? 

Wife.     You  could,  my  dear,  you  could. 

Giant.  This  is  such  a  backward  place  I  wotdd  hardly 
meet  with  a  king  in  a  twelvemonth,  where  they  are  all 
banished,  I  suppose,  to  their  own  countries.    Go  on  now. 

Wife.  There  is  a  very  pretty  little  story  of  one  Dearg 
Mor.  His  head  and  his  hands  that  were  after  being  cut  off 
came  playing  cards  with  Finn  Mac  Cuil  on  a  ship. 

Giant.  I  wouldn't  wish  my  head  and  hands  to  be  cut  off. 
It  is  often  I  do  be  thinking  since  I  turned  to  be  a  giant  I 
might  have  followed  some  better  trade. 

Wife.  You  might  have  gone  as  a  billeted  soldier  in  the 
line  army,  to  be  a  bully  in  the  service  of  a  king. 

Giant.  I  am  thinking  it  is  a  middling  easy  job  to  be  a 
king. 

Wife.  There  are  giants  left  as  good  a  name  after  them, 
such  as  Polyphemus  that  was  killed  by  the  great  Greek. 

Giant.     Kings  go  from  father  to  son,  and  one  that  is 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  35 

slack  in  his  wits  might  not  be  found  out  for  a  long  while. 
But  you  have  to  be  a  giant  of  yourself,  and  to  put  up  your 
own  name. 

Wife.     So  you  do  put  it  up,  my  dear,  so  you  do. 

Giant.  I  am  thinking  there  is  a  reflection  on  giants,  now 
people  are  getting  to  be  so  cranky  and  so  enlightened.  What 
story  now  will  be  written  in  the  book  of  myself,  the  great 
Giant,  Fatach  Mor? 

Wife  {jumping  up).  I  myself  to  write  the  book,  I  would 
say  he  was  a  great  bother  stopping  all  through  the  day  in  the 
house,  and  not  to  go  and  cut  a  few  heads  of  cabbage  for  the 
dinner. 

Giant.  Ah,  what  dinner?  I  am  not  able  to  lessen  on  any- 
thing worth  while  this  long  time.     I  have  the  appetite  lost. 

llife.  To  move  about  and  to  stir  yourself  you  should, 
and  to  lend  a  hand  turning  the  hay. 

Giant.  I  cannot  grabble  with  everything  at  once.  Little 
you  care  if  I  got  as  thin  as  a  fishing-rod.  I,  now,  suffer  more 
than  any  common  man.  There  is  more  room  for  the  pain  to 
work  by  reason  of  the  height  of  my  body  and  the  length 
there  is  in  my  limbs. 

Wife.  Let  you  send  for  a  doctor  so,  if  you  are  not  satis- 
fied with  the  attendance  I  am  giving  you. 

Giant.     A  doctor  should  have  more  knowledge. 

Wife.  Never  fear,  he'll  have  knowledge  enough  to  take 
your  money,  giving  your  sickness  every  name  longer  than 
another. 

Giant.     It  is  yourself  begrudges  them  the  fee. 


36  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Wife.  Fee  enough  not  to  cut  the  head  off  them.  Giving 
you,  maybe,  medicines  were  in  bottles  on  the  shelf  these 
sixty  years,  that  you  hardly  could  read  the  labels  on  them. 

Giant.  There  is  a  physician,  they  were  telling  me,  at  the 
King  of  Ireland's  Court.  The  capital  doctor  of  the  country 
he  is.    He  is  greatly  beloved  with  the  King. 

Wife.  He  should  be  free  by  this,  for  I  heard  a  good 
while  ago  the  King  was  in  a  dying  state  under  his  hand. 

Giant.  Can't  you  give  your  mind  now  to  send  your 
pigeon  messenger  to  bid  him  put  on  his  coat  of  healing  and 
come  hither  without  delay?  Give  me  some  sort  of  a  note  or  a 
writing  for  him. 

Wife.  Ah!  Get  out  the  door,  will  you,  and  I'll  give  you 
anything  you'll  ask  outside  heaven! 

Giant  {at  door  to  left).  It  is  on  you  it  will  fall,  any  harm- 
less person  to  get  their  death  seeing  me  on  the  road — ■ 
through  terror  of  my  height  and  of  my  size. 

Wife.     Close  the  door  after  you! 

Giajit  {putting  in  his  head  again).  Don't  forget,  now, 
setting  out  the  yard  as  a  giant's  yard  should  be  set  out, 
every  fork  but  one  having  a  head  on  it. 

Wife.  Have  a  care !  I  am  about  to  throw  scalding  water 
out  the  door  1  {She  lifts  pot  from  fire.  Giant  slams  door  and 
goes.)  {Sitting  down.)  My  joy  go  with  you  in  a  bottle  of 
moss,  and  if  you  never  come  back  you'll  be  no  great  loss! 
{She  takes  out  a  little  stocking,  turns  out  money  into  her  lap  and 
counts  it.     There  is  a  knock  at  door  to  Right.)    Come  in! 

{Rury  and  Simon  enter,  very  travel-stained  and  tired.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  37 

Rury.  We  are  travelling  a  long  time.  Can  you  give  us 
food  and  rest? 

Wife^  {jumping  up  and  curtseying  low).  My  hundred 
thousand  welcomes  to  you,  King's  son  from  Ireland! 

Rury.     What  way  do  you  know  me? 

Wife.  Why  wouldn't  I  recognize  the  signs  of  a  king  and 
I  reared  in  Connacht?  You  are  the  highest  blood  in  Ireland, 
by  your  father  anyway. 

Rury.     It  is  a  good  thing  to  meet  with  a  welcome. 

Wife.  You  never  were  more  welcome,  and  if  there  were 
ten  of  you,  you  would  be  welcome !  But  is  it  that  you  came 
riding  spread-legs  down  a  rainbow,  or  what  way  at  all  did 
you  come? 

Rury.     We  travelled  a  queer  long  way  coming  here. 

Simon.     We  did  surely.    We  have  half  the  world  walked. 

Wife.     You  should  have  come  through  great  dangers. 

Simon.  If  we  did,  we  came  through  them  well.  That 
lad,  my  master,  would  face  anything,  dog  or  Christian,  he 
would  meet. 

Wife.  I  didn't  hear  a  Connacht  man's  voice  the  seven 
years  I  am  a  Giant's  wife. 

Simon.     What  giant? 

Wife.     This  is  the  house  of  Fatach  Mor. 

Simon  {uneasily).  Is  it  that  there  is  within  that  door  a 
full  room  of  skulls? 

Rury.  Give  us  something  to  eat,  and  we  will  go  on  our 
road. 

Wife  {putting  porridge  from  a  saucepa^i  into  bowls).  You 


38  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

couldn't  eat  healthier  than  the  oatmeal.  It  will  give  you 
nice  courage  for  a  while.  We  don't  have  meat  in  the  house 
but  one  day  in  the  week,  and  that  day  is  yesterday. 

Simon.  I  suppose  the  Giant  devours  his  meal  abroad, 
tearing  and  rending  it  where  it  falls.  It  should  be  a 
terrible  thing  to  be  wed  with  a  man  the  like  of  that. 

Wife.  Indeed,  I'd  sooner  be  at  my  own  liberty  than 
confined  in  this  place.  Whisper — I  am  trying  to  fill  a 
Httle  stocking  against  the  time  I'll  go  back  to  Connacht. 

Riiry.  Can  you  give  me  news  of  the  Garden  that  is  at 
the  World's  End? 

Wije.     It  is  I  myself  can  give  it. 

Riiry.  I  have  to  get  an  apple  there  for  my  father's 
healing.    Is  it  far? 

Wife.  You  never  would  be  able  to  reach  it,  and  you  not 
getting  help  on  the  way. 

Rury.  You  don't  know,  I  suppose,  the  Witch  that  owns 
it,  that  is  said  to  be  the  Hag  of  Slaughter? 

Wife.  I  myself  know  her,  and  it's  well  I  know  her,  and 
it's  I  do  know  her. 

Rury.     Is  she  as  bad  as  w^hat  they  say? 

Wife.     She  is,  and  worse. 

Simon.  Sure  we  got  a  sketch  of  her  below  in  the  Wood  of 
Wonders;  a  horned,  twisted  hag. 

Wife.  That's  not  her.  The  wasting  of  time  does  not 
touch  her.  She  kept  her  youth  through  being  thorny-hearted 
and  taking  an  odd  sleep  through  seven  years. 

Rury.     What  way  will  we  know  her? 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  39 

Wife.  You  couldn't  know  her.  When  she  has  a  mind 
she  looks  as  innocent  as  a  little  child  would  be  picking  straw- 
berries in  the  grass.    She  does  be  coming  here  often  of  late. 

Simon.     To  this  house? 

Wife.  The  Giant  that  is  turned  matchmaker  through 
her  means,  where  her  kinsman  the  Grugach  of  the  Humming 
is  coming  looking  for  a  woman  of  a  wife.  To  put  us  to  the 
expense  of  the  wedding  they  will,  that  will  have  a  year's 
firing  used  in  a  week. 

Simon.     Is  it  with  the  Witch  he  will  go  wed? 

Wife.  He  will  not,  but  with  the  daughter.  Much  good 
may  it  do  her !  And  he  having  but  one  foot  and  one  eye,  and 
it  in  the  middle  of  his  head. 

Rury.     It  should  be  hard  for  him  find  a  wife. 

Wife.  Ah,  he  has  the  riches.  And  the  girl  is  no  great 
blood,  where  her  father  was  but  a  well-looking  Munster  man, 
coaxed  the  Witch  with  a  sweet  note  in  his  voice. 

Rury  (puttijtg  down  bowl  and  ?nug).  It  is  time  for  us  go 
on  towards  the  Garden. 

Wife.     Did  you  get  warning  of  the  dangers  of  the  road? 

Rury.  We  got  news  of  them,  the  Blazing  Mountain  and 
the  Hill  of  Spearheads. 

Wife.  Look  now  what  I  will  do  for  you,  if  I  put  my  own 
neck  in  the  rope.  I  would  like  well  that  you  would  get  the 
better  of  the  witch -woman  and  put  an  end  to  her  matches  and 
her  meddling.  Do  you  see  what  is  there  hanging  on  the 
wall? 

Rury.     It  is  a  ball  of  flax. 


40  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simo7i.     Twisted  it  is  on  a  crooked  holly  stick. 

Wife.  It  is  not  any  size  at  all  to  be  looking  at,  but  it  will 
give  out  a  thousand  miles  of  thread. 

Simon.     Is  it  that  there  is  enchantment  in  it? 

Wife.  It  has  that  much  of  a  charm  it  would  bring  you 
through  all  the  world.  It  is  the  Witch  left  it  there,  the  way 
Fatach  Mor  would  be  able  to  go  up  and  down  giving  her 
news  of  the  coming  of  the  Grugach,  where  it  is  tethered  to  an 
apple  tree  in  the  Garden.  Go  throwing  it  before  you,  and 
come  up  with  it  as  far  as  it  goes. 

Rury.     It  will  bring  us  to  that  tree? 

Wife.  As  straight  as  a  bullet.  It  will  be  a  high  bridge 
over  fire,  and  as  to  the  spearheads,  you  passing  over  them 
they  will  tiirn  their  points  straight  downwards.  What,  now, 
do  you  say  to  me? 

Simon.  Very  good.  It  is  a  man  without  sense  would  go 
climbing  a  fence  would  be  hard,  and  a  fence  would  be  low 
and  easy  being  beside  him. 

Riiry.  I  will  tell  the  King,  my  father,  it  was  you  that 
saved  his  life. 

Wife.  You  are  welcome,  dear,  you're  welcome.  Well, 
God  enable  you!  And  that  you  may  put  nettles  growing 
upon  the  Witch's  hearth!  {Three  roars  heard.) 

Simo7i.     What  at  all  is  that? 

Wife.     It  is  Himself  coming  in. 

Rury.  It  is  best  for  us  go  on.  I  have  no  wish  to  do  hurt 
to  your  man. 

Wife.     You  are  late.    He  is  at  the  door. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  41 

Simon.     Put  us  in  hiding  till  he  will  be  gone. 

Wife.  Get  in  here  to  the  chest  of  bog  deal.  (Simon  slips 
in.) 

Rury.  I  will  stop  here  behind  the  dresser.  I  might  make 
a  run  past. 

Wife.  You  cannot,  but  wait  till  I  will  put  him  asleep. 
You  can  make  a  leap  then  out  the  door. 

Giant  {coming  in).  I  am  thinking  you  gave  me  a  good 
advice.    I  am  feeling  some  desire  for  my  meal. 

Wife.     That  is  great.    What  now  will  I  make  ready  for 

you? 

Giant  {throwing  down  some  heads  of  cabbage).  I  took 
down  a  few  of  the  heads  are  on  the  forks  since  yesterday. 
Let  you  put  them  in  the  pot  to  boil. 

{Simon  who  has  lifted  an  inch  of  the  lid  of  chest  shuts 
it  again,  terrified.) 
{Excited.)     Fru,  Fra,  Fashog!    I  smell  the  smell  of  a  melo- 
dious lying  Irishman! 

Wife.  Oh  no,  my  dear.  It  is  but  a  breeze  passed  over  a 
boat  sailing  from  Connemara  and  brought  a  hint  of  the 
smoke  from  the  turf. 

Giant.  I  have  no  mind  friends  of  your  own  to  be  coming 
to  pick  knowledge  of  myself  and  my  ways.  That  is  the  way 
they  get  to  lose  their  respect  for  us. 

Wife.  Oh  no,  but  more  respect  for  yourself  they  would 
get. 

Giant.  Give  me  here  the  knife.  I  will  be  slicing  and 
cutting  the  heads.  {Simon  peeps  out  again,  terrified.) 


42  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

{Ttmmig)     Fru,  Fra,  Fashog!     I  smell  the  smell   of   the 
melodious  lying 

Wife.  Oh  no,  my  dear.  It  is  but  the  little  root  of  sham- 
rock I  brought  in  my  box,  that  is  blooming  out  in  the  green 
plot  abroad  in  the  yard. 

Giant.  Those  men  of  Ireland  are  getting  too  saucy 
altogether!  Look  now  till  you'll  see  the  way  I'll  take 
a  hold  of  this  by  the  neck  and  will  cleave  it  with  one 
stroke! 

{Holds  up  a  cabbage:  Simon  again  tries  to  peep.) 
{Throwing  down  cabbage.)  It  is  lies  you  are  telling  me!  I 
am  certain  I  smell  the  smell! 

Wife  {putting  hand  on  his  arm).  Oh,  my  dear,  I  was  in 
dread  you  would  be  jealous  if  I  told  you.  It  was  a  Httle  bird 
from  Ireland  perched  upon  my  shoulder  a  while  ago,  and  I 
out  bleaching  the  tablecloths  for  the  Grugach's  wedding 
feast.  Go  out  now  and  put  up  a  few  more  heads  upon  the 
forks  before  any  person  will  pass  by. 

Giant.  I  to  mind  you  I  would  have  my  feet  wore  to 
flitters  running  here  and  there. 

Wife.  Come  over  here,  my  dear,  and  I  will  sing  you 
Grania's  little  sleepy  song  she  used  to  be  crooning  over 
Diarmuid,  to  soothe  him  till  the  dinner  would  be  boiled. 

Giant.     I  will  sit  down  here  on  the  chest. 

Wife.  No,  but  come  here  out  of  the  draught  of  wind  is 
coming  in  at  the  door.  {He  sits  down  in  easy-chair.)  Here  is 
a  pillow  for  yotir  head.  {She  sits  on  arm  of  chair  and  sings) 
"Sleep  a  little,  my  blessing  on  you,  my  lamb  from  beside  the 


"Fru,   Fra,   Fashog!     I    smell    the    smell    of    a    melodious    lying 

Irishman!" 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  43 

pool;  Oh,  heart  of  courage  beyond  all  courage,  there  is  not 
a  woman  but  envies  me  to-day." 

Giant  {sitting  up  proudly).  I  to  fall  asleep,  waken  me 
with  three  blows  of  a  hammer  from  the  Forge  of  the  Four- 
and-twenty  Smiths. 

Wife.  I  will,  my  dear,  I  will.  (Sings)  "Let  your  sleep 
be  like  the  sleep  in  the  east,  of  the  great  hero  was  called  the 
Sluggard.  A  pair  of  tongs  he  had  upon  his  back,  and  a 
squealing  pig  between  the  two  hands  of  the  tongs!" 

Giant  {looking  up).  If  that  song  puts  me  to  sleep,  waken 
me  with  letting  fall  on  me  a  beam  from  the  roof ! 

Wife.  If  that  doesn't  waken  you  I'll  cut  the  toe  off  you 
— {Sings)  "Let  your  sleep  be  like  the  sleep  in  the  west,  of 
Halfman  that  carried  a  churchyard  on  his  back!" 

Giant  {looking  up) .  That  is  a  giant  you  would  call  a  giant ! 
Wife  {speaking  rapidly).  The  best  sleep  ever  he  got  was 
through  the  rattling  of  an  iron  candlestick  having  three 
branches,  and  nine  apples  weighing  nine  stone  upon  every 
branch!  {She  takes  poker  and  tongs  and  rattles  them  upon 
iron  pot.) 

{Giant    seems    to    sleep    profoundly.      During    the 

clamour,  Simon  scrambles  out  of  chest,  and  he 

and  Rury  go  to  door.    Wife  puts  down  fireirons 

and  waves  a  hand  to  them.) 

Simon  {at  door).     That  was  the  longest  hour  that  ever 

was  on  the  hands  of  the  clock ! 

{Giant  starts  up.    Rury  and  Simon  rush  out  of  door^ 
locking  it  after  them.) 


44  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Giant.     There  is  some  one  gone  out  the  door! 

Wife.     You  are  dreaming,  my  dear,  through  your  sleep. 

Giaiit  {at  window) .     Two  of  them  that  are  in  it ! 

Wife.     Oh,  the  villains!    Go  after  them  and  stop  them! 

Giant.     They  have  the  door  locked ! 

Wife.     It's  easy  for  you  wrench  it  open. 

Giant.     I  have  no  time  to  put  on  my  battle  dress. 

Wife.     You  could  go  a  short-cut  through  the  window. 

Giant.  I  wonder  at  you!  You  know  well  to  go  out  of 
the  window  I  would  have  to  take  off  my  tree-legs — 
{Shows  stilts  under  his  clothing.)  The  people  to  see  me 
that  way,  it  is  likely  they  would  be  saying  me  not  to  be  a 
real  giant ! 

End  of  Scene  IV.,  Act  I. 


Act  II.    Scene  I. 

The  Garden.     Witch  and  Gardener.     The  Witch  is 

richly  dressed. 

Witch  {looking  at  apple  tree.)  The  thread  is  tightening. 
Some  person  is  coming  here  having  the  ball  in  his  hand. 

Gardener.  It  might  be  Fatach  Mor  the  Giant.  It  was  to 
him  you  gave  the  use  of  it. 

Witch.  It  is  not.  I  know  by  the  feel  of  the  flax  it  is  a 
man  with  a  heart  of  courage  has  a  grip  of  it. 

Gardener.  It  can  be  no  one  but  some  friend  of  your  own, 
ma'am,  would  have  the  string. 

Witch.  It  is  no  friend.  I  know  well  who  it  is.  If  I 
refuse  him  the  apple,  it  is  likely  he  will  rob  it  in  spite  of  me. 
He  has  robbed  me  of  more  than  that,  more  than  that.  I  will 
lose  her.  It  fails  me  the  strength  to  cross  her.  I  must  give 
him  to  her,  I  will  bid  her  make  ready  to  meet  him.  My  grief 
that  she  ever  laid  an  eye  on  him!  He  will  vex  her  heart  yet. 
{Goes  Left.) 

Gardener  {looks  after  Witch  and  shakes  his  head).     You 
have  that  slip  of  a  daughter  too  much  petted.    A  peevish 
colleen,  a  peevish  colleen!    It  is  often  a  woman  cut  a  rod 
would  beat  herself  in  the  end.     {He  goes  aside.) 
{Rury  and  Simon  come  on  Right. 'i 

45 


46  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Riiry.     There  now  at  last  is  the  apple ! 

Simo7i.     I  wonder  is  it  of  solid  gold. 

Fury.     It  is  better  than  that,  having  healing  in  it. 

Simon.     That  is  so.    The  health  is  the  only  riches. 

Rury.     What  is  that  shining  at  the  foot  of  the  tree? 

Simon.     It  is  but  a  curl  of  hair. 

Rury.     It  is  shining  of  itself. 

Simon.     Pluck  down  now  the  apple  and  come  out  of  this. 

Rury.  There  must  be  some  great  beauty  in  the  garden. 
I  will  go  seek  her. 

Simo7i,  I  am  in  dread  of  the  Hag.  Get  the  apple  and 
come. 

Rury.  I  am  certain  I  will  wed  with  no  other  one  but  the 
woman  that  owns  this  curl. 

Simon.     Come  on  now  for  pity's  sake. 

Rury.  Stop  here  till  I  will  go  look  for  her  among  the 
trees.     {Goes.) 

Witch  {coming  in).  It  was  not  you  had  a  hold  of  the  end 
of  the  thread? 

Simon.  It  was  not,  your  honour  my  ladyship.  It  was  my 
master.     He  is  taking  a  view  of  the  beauties  of  the  garden. 

Witch.     What  brought  him  here? 

Simon.  For  a  cure  he  came.  A  lovely  garden  it  is — a 
very  grand  place.  I  wonder  now  where  is  the  witch-woman 
that  owns  it. 

Witch.     Would  you  recognize  her  if  you  saw  her? 

Simon.  I  would  to  be  sure.  Didn't  she  rise  spirits  before 
us  in  the  wood  beyond.    It  isn't  easy  mistake  her.    A  beauti- 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  47 

ful  lady  like  yourself,  ma'am,  wotild  get  your  death  to  be 
looking  at  her  like.  A  flattened  bluish  sort  of  a  nose.  Hair 
the  same  as  a  horse's  tail. 

Witch.     Is  that  the  way  she  is? 

Simon.  The  ugliest  you  would  see  in  the  world.  You 
wouldn't  be  the  better  of  it  in  a  year.  Nails  like  the  tips  of 
cows'  horns.  A  greenish  tusk  shaped  like  a  reaping-hook 
going  back  to  her  ear.  Six  foot  of  goat's  horn  going  back 
from  her  head. 

Witch.  That  is  enough  of  talk.  Tell  me  this,  has  your 
master  himself  promised  to  any  one? 

Simon.     He  has  not.    Sure,  he  is  only  hardly  a  boy! 

Witch.     Has  he  any  secret  love? 

Simon.  He  wouldn't  look  at  a  woman's  face,  and  Helen 
to  be  walking  the  road  from  Troy ;  but  at  hounds,  at  the 
hunting,  or  horses  making  their  leaps. 

Witch.     Go,  call  him  here. 

Simon.  Here  he  is  coming.  It  is  himself  will  tell  your 
honourable  ladyship  I  am  telling  no  lie. 

Rury.     I  am  come  to  ask  for  that  apple. 

Witch.     That  is  a  great  thing  to  ask. 

Rury.     It  is  for  the  cure  of  a  wounded  king. 

Witch.  It  is  for  one  like  yourself  it  has  been  waiting,  a 
man  with  daring  and  with  good  luck. 

Rury.  I  am  thankful  for  that  word.  I  will  pluck  it 
and  bring  it  away. 

Witch.  Hold  your  hand.  Whoever  will  get  that  apple 
has  one  promise  to  give. 


48  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Rury.     Tell  it  out  to  me. 

Witch.  He  must  put  himself  under  bonds  to  wed  with 
the  young  girl  that  is  here  with  it  in  the  garden. 

Ricry.  That  is  what  I  would  wish,  and  she  being  the 
great  beauty  I  take  her  to  be. 

Witch.     She  is,  and  better  again. 

Rury.     Tell  me  where  can  I  get  a  sight  of  her. 

Witch.  Go  over  west  to  the  butt  of  a  yew  tree  that 
is  shaped  like^a  table.  I  will  bid  her  bring  you  meat  and 
wine. 

{Goes  L.,  Rury  is  going  R.) 

Gardener.     Come  hither.  King's  son  of  Ireland! 

Rury.     I  cannot  stop. 

Gardener.     Have  a  care!    Have  a  care! 

Rury.     I  see  nothing  to  be  in  dread  of. 

Gardener.  There  is  a  great  deal  a  man  should  be  in 
dread  of  and  he  thinking  to  take  a  wife. 

Rury.     If  that  is  all  the  danger  I  will  face  it. 

Gardener.  There  are  some  that  might  be  dressed  up 
with  all  the  colours  of  the  birds,  might  not  be  as  good  as  one 
might  be  wearing  a  poor  girl's  suit. 

Rtiry.  It  is  not  dress  I  would  think  of,  beside  beauty  and 
courage  and  sweet  speech. 

Gardener.  That  is  so.  To  be  mannerly  and  not  to 
have  anything  to  say  with  any  one,  but  to  carry  your  own 
character. 

Rury.     I  must  go  to  the  butt  of  the  yew  tree. 

Gardener,     Do  not.     Stop  here  behind  this  cluster  of 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  49 

bushes.    It's  the  young  lady  herself  that  is  coming,  you  will 
see  her  on  the  minute. 

Rury  {going  behind  hushes).     There  are  two  coming. 
{Pampogue  and  Muireann  come  in.) 

Pampogue.  Stop  now  till  I  will  see  my  face  in  the  well. 
{Looks  in.)     Do  I  look  good  to-day? 

Muireann.  You  can  see  the  shining  of  your  jewels  in  the 
water. 

Pampogue.  Will  you  come  herding  geese  for  me  the  time 
I  will  be  wedded  with  the  King  of  Ireland's  son? 

Muireann.  If  I  go  it  will  be  for  the  reason  I  stop  here, 
the  strength  of  your  mother's  power. 

Pampogue.  You  are  right  to  be  in  dread  of  her.  She 
that  can  put  upon  you  the  shape  of  a  whale  of  the  ocean,  or 
of  a  midge  of  the  air. 

Muireann.     That  power  might  not  be  lasting. 

Pampogue.  She  will  have  pith  and  power  so  long  as  she 
owns  the  Three  Rods  of  Magic  and  Mastery. 

Muireann.  Some  one  who  is  stronger  again  might  bring 
them  away  from  her. 

Pampogue.  They  are  well  hidden.  You  would  never 
make  out  where  they  are. 

Muireann.     It  is  likely  she  keeps  them  close  at  hand. 

Pampogue.  She  does  not.  She  thinks  no  person  knows 
where  they  are — but  I  know. 

Muireann.     How  can  you  know  if  she  did  not  tell  you? 

Pampogue.  She  did  not  tell  me,  but  I  put  my  eye  to  the 
keyhole  one  night  she  was  talking  to  the  Wizard  of  the 


50  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Withered  Knee.    She  gave  them  to  him  wrapped  in  holly 
bark.    I  put  my  ear  to  the  hole. 

Muireann.     That  was  a  wrong  thing  to  do. 

Pampogiie.  If  I  did  not  do  it  I  would  not  have  heard 
what  she  said.  "Go,  put  them,"  she  said,  "in  the  farthest 
room  of  the  house  of  the  Sidhe  that  is  in  the  hill  of  Knock- 
maa."  I  have  a  mind  to  go  look  for  them  myself,  the  way 
I  will  get  the  mastery  over  the  King  of  Ireland's  son. 

Muireann.  I  will  leave  down  these  dishes  on  the  yew 
tree  and  go  back  to  my  work. 

Pampogue.  You  will  not!  I  would  wish  you  to  see  the 
prince  who  will  be  my  husband,  and  that  you  yourself  will 
never  get  the  like  of.  You  can  take  a  view  of  him,  but  he 
will  never  cast  an  eye  on  yourself. 

{A  bird  sings.) 

Muireann.     Listen !    There  is  joy  in  his  little  sweet  song. 

Pampogue.     Give  me  that  stone. 

Muireann.     What  do  you  want  with  it? 

Pampogue.  I  want  it  to  fire  at  that  bird.  {Throws 
stone.) 

Muireann.     Come  on  to  the  yew  tree. 

Pampogue  {with  a  scream).  There  is  a  snail!  Put  your 
foot  on  it! 

Muireann.     No,  I  will  put  it  among  the  ivy  leaves. 

Pampogue  {trying  to  slap  her).  I'll  call  your  owner  to 
give  you  cruelty,  where  you  will  not  do  my  commands. 
Goose  girl!    Goose  girl!    {Goes  mocking.) 

{Rury  and  Gardener  come  on.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  51 

Gardener.  Which  now  of  the  two  has  the  seven  blessings 
going  along  with  her? 

Riiry  {to  Muireaym).  It  is  you  surely  are  the  young 
queen. 

Muireann.  I  am  daughter  and  granddaughter  and 
great-granddaughter  of  kings. 

Gardener.  It  was  easy  for  him  to  recognize  the  stock  of 
kings. 

Muireann.  I  am  kept  here  in  the  garden  by  the  malice 
and  treachery  of  a  witch. 

Rury.  Will  you  come  to  be  wife  of  a  king  and  mother  of 
kings  to  come? 

Muireann.     What  way  can  I  escape  from  her  spells? 

Rury.  I  will  bring  you  away  from  her  power.  I  will 
make  an  end  of  her. 

Gardener.  It  is  hard  treatment  she  should  get.  To  take  a 
poor  child  up  in  her  hand  and  to  torment  her  the  way  she  does. 

Rury.  O !  Flower  of  the  raspberry !  It  is  in  my  heart 
you  are  come  to  harbour.  There  was  never  the  like  of  you 
on  the  face  of  the  earth !  Your  shadow  only  would  set  all  the 
kings  of  the  world  quarrelling. 

Muireann.  It  is  empty  I  would  be  coming  to  your  house. 
I  that  was  used  to  golden  vessels,  I  have  not  now  of  the 
goods  of  the  world  but  my  five  brothers  only,  that  are  turned 
to  fishes  in  the  well. 

Rury.  I  will  make  a  sunny-house  for  you  thatched  with 
the  feathers  of  the  birds!  I  will  put  a  carpet  of  silk  under 
your  feet. 


52  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Muireann.  That  is  the  way  it  was  with  me,  and  I  in  the 
Court  of  Spain. 

Riiry.  I  will  give  red  wine  to  the  horse  you  will  ride ;  it  is 
on  flowers  he  will  set  his  golden  shoe. 

Mtdreann.  If  I  knew  you  to  have  no  wife,  I  would  not 
wed  with  any  man  but  yourself. 

Rury.  There  is  the  love  of  hundreds  in  your  face  and 
there  is  the  promise  of  the  evening  star. 

Muireanfi.  My  face  that  was  sheltered  and  my  hands 
that  were  under  no  weight,  only  gold  rings,  are  brown  with 
the  weather  and  hard. 

Rury.  The  driven  snow  on  the  mountain  is  nine  times 
blacker  than  the  blackberry  beside  your  whiteness !  All  the 
w^omen  of  the  world  are  rushlights  in  an  iron  socket,  but  you 
are  a  candlestick  of  gold  on  a  queen's  table. 

Muireafin.     It  is  long  since  I  heard  talk  like  that. 

Rury.  Neither  star  nor  sun  shows  half  as  much  light  as 
your  shadow! 

Muireann.  I  think  your  name  should  be  Honeymouth 
out  from  Ireland. 

Rury.  When  the  men  of  Ireland  see  me  bringing  you 
back  to  them,  their  hearts  will  be  under  the  sole  of  your  shoe. 

Muireann.     Will  you  surely  bring  me  there  with  you? 

Rury.  I  will  surely.  It  is  you  will  make  every  happy 
thing  happier.  All  the  days  of  the  years  to  come  are  waiting 
for  your  footstep  to  tread  upon  them. 

Muireann.  To  have  been  under  unkindness  and  re- 
proach for  so  long  and  to  hear  you  say  those  words,  it  is  like 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  53 

as  if  the  dead  quarter  of  the  year  is  gone  by,  and  the  birth- 
day of  the  spring  at  hand. 

Rury.  You  are  a  little  silver  birch  tree  all  alone  upon  a 
rock,  washed  in  the  white  rays  of  the  moon. 

Miiireann.  I  have  been  alone  indeed  and  as  desolate  as 
a  bare  bush  left  in  a  gap. 

Rury.  There  is  many  a  woman  would  go  cranky  and 
bitter  under  such  hardness. 

Muireann.  There  is  no  hardship  coming  on  me  now  but 
I  would  laugh  at  it,  as  happy  as  the  rising  sun. 

Gardener.  Make  no  delay,  King's  son.  The  Witch  is 
coming  here.    Pluck  down  the  apple  and  go. 

Rury.  I  will  bring  this  queen-woman  with  me  to  my 
father's  house.    I  must  bring  her  away  from  danger. 

Muireann.  Oh  yes,  bring  me  away!  They  will  never 
let  me  come  to  you  again. 

Gardener.  She  must  not  quit  the  garden  at  this  time. 
There  is  danger  about  her  on  the  road.  To  bring  her  away 
you  must  come  again  with  power  that  is  greater  than  the 
power  of  the  Witch. 

Rury.  If  I  do  not  get  her  I  will  not  leave  a  head  on  any 
one  in  the  place ! 

Gardener.  Listen  to  the  sound  of  her  stick  stirring  the 
dead  leaves  —  It  is  like  hammering  nails  in  a  coffin.  It 
it  not  swords  can  go  against  that  one,  but  to  shoot  her  with  a 
bullet  having  three  times  nine  curses  on  it.  Go,  do  your 
work,  and  I  will  find  the  secret  of  her  magic.  I  think  I  have 
come  near  it  now. 


54  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Muireann.  He  is  maybe  right.  He  has  wisdom  and 
knowledge.    But  oh,  isn't  it  a  great  pity! 

Rury.     I  will  be  back  with  you  as  swift  as  the  swallow. 

Muireanji.    You  will  forget  me,  going  away. 

Rury.     I  will  never  forget  you  while  green  grass  grows. 

Muireann.  You  will  maybe  turn  away  from  me,  seeing 
I  am  not  so  nice  looking  as  what  you  think. 

Rury.  That  will  happen  when  it  is  the  shadow  of  the 
hollow  that  will  fall  upon  the  side  of  the  hill. 

Gardener.     Hurry,  hurry,  it  is  a  long  road. 

Muireann.  Take  these  little  cakes,  two  of  them  to  eat  on 
the  road,  and  one  to  bring  back  to  Ireland.  I  have  left  on 
them  three  drops  of  honey,  where  I  touched  them  with  three 
fingers  of  my  hand.  And  take  with  them  my  little  pipe  of 
music.    I  will  come  to  you  whenever  I  hear  its  call. 

Witch's  Voice.  The  bride  is  gone  to  the  butt  of  the  yew 
tree.    Where  is  the  bridegroom,  the  King's  son  of  Ireland? 

{Rury  and  Muireann  go  out  of  sight.) 
{Coming  on.)  The  bargain  is  made  and  the  promise  given. 
What  are  you  doing  there,  Gardener?  Where  is  the  King  of 
Ireland's  son? 

Gardener  {pointing  upwards).     Listen,  listen! 

Witch.     What  would  I  listen  to? 

Gardener.    To  the  talk  of  the  filibines  and  stairs  overhead. 

Witch.     They  have  no  news  or  no  message  for  me. 

Gardener.  I  suppose  not,  I  suppose  not.  They  are  but 
crying  that  the  house  of  the  Sidhe  is  on  fire,  that  is  in  the 
hill  of  Knockmaa. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  55 

Witch  (with  a  shriek).     The  hidden  house  at  Knockmaa! 

Gardener.  The  houses  of  the  witches  are  blazing  up, 
they  are  crying,  and  all  their  furniture  and  their  goods ! 

Witch.  My  Rods  of  Magic  and  Mastery  that  are  in 
it!     Ochone,  my  grief!    {She  rushes  of.) 

Gardener.  That  was  a  lucky  lie.  She  will  go  out  on  the 
wind  'to  Knockmaa.  The  bands  of  death  on  her,  and  what- 
ever part  of  her  the  crows  will  not  eat,  let  the  dogs  of  the 
wilderness  devour! 

(Rury  and  Muireann  come  hack.) 

Rury  {kissing  her).  My  hundred  loves,  my  share  of  the 
world ! 

Muireann.     Oh  dear  black  head ! 

{Rury  plucks  the  apple  from  the  tree  and  goes.) 

End  of  Scene  L,  Act  II. 


Act  II.    Scene  II. 

Same  room  in  the  Giant* s  castle.  Giant  sitting  in  high  easy 
chair  with  pillows  and  medicine  bottles.  A  catapult  in  his 
hand. 

Wife  {at  door).  Here  is  the  doctor  after  coming  from  the 
King  of  Ireland's  Court. 

Giant.  Wait  a  minute.  {Fires  a  stone  through  window.) 
I  was  just  taking  aim  with  my  catapult  at  a  pet  blackbird  is 
perched  on  the  shoulder  of  an  enemy  I  have  out  in  the  far-off 
Indies.    Could  the  King  of  Ireland  now  do  that  much? 

Doctor  {pompously).  He  being  a  King  has  no  need  doing 
that  sort  of  thing  for  himself,  where  he  has  his  ships  and  his 
armies  to  go  torment  and  put  down  his  enemies. 

Giant  {dropping  catapidt) .  May  be  so —  It  should  be  a 
very  nice  thing  to  be  a  King  of  armies. 

Doctor.  I  cannot  be  losing  time  stopping  here  from  the 
side  of  the  King's  bed.    What  is  it  ails  you? 

Giant.  Slack  enough  in  the  health  I  am.  Some  weeks 
fair  enough  and  some  weeks  no  action —  Has  the  King 
now  any  sickness  on  him  of  that  sort? 

Doctor.  The  King  is  on  the  broad  of  his  back,  last  harvest 
was  a  year. 

56 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  57 

Wife.  Let  you  put  a  face  on  yourself  and  speak  up  to 
the  doctor. 

Giant.  On  and  on  sickly  I  am.  A  day  in  bed — a  day 
out  of  bed. 

Doctor.  Do  you  go  walking  or  leaping  or  running,  for  to 
give  exercise  to  your  limbs? 

Giant.  I  do — sometimes.  Herself  that  sent  me  but 
yesterday  gathering  kippeens. 

Wife.  If  I  did,  you  did  not  bring  in  enough  of  them  to 
make  a  crow's  nest. 

Giant.  It  is  the  way  I  spent  the  time,  knotting  trees 
together.  It  is  as  good  for  me  bring  in  the  whole  forest  at 
the  one  time. 

Doctor.     Have  you  the  appetite  lost? 

Giant.     That  is  the  most  thing  ails  me. 

Doctor  (to  wife) .  You  have  a  right  to  boil  down  old  hens 
for  him.  But  maybe  hens  is  nothing  to  a  giant.  What  now 
are  you  used  to  take  at  your  meal? 

Giant  {taking  hold  of  book).  Oh,  I  might  bring  in  a  wild 
boar  for  my  dinner  and  draw  it  through  the  ashes  and  leave 
nothing  of  the  four  quarters  of  it  but  the  bones.  Or  to  tear  a 
biillock  in  two  halves,  and  to  boil  the  one  half  of  it  and  roast 
the  other  half,  and  devour  them  bit  about. 

Wife.  Don't  be  showing  off  now.  Tell  out  your  case 
fair  and  plain. 

Doctor.     I  would  wish  to  look  at  your  tongue. 

Giant  (standing  up).  Bridget,  put  up  here  the  stepladder 
for  the  doctor. 


58  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Wife.     That  you  may  be  forgiven ! 

Giant.  Would  you  put  him  to  the  trouble  to  make  a 
staircase,  cutting  notches  in  the  backs  of  my  legs. 

(Doctor  climbs  ladder  and  looks  at  tongue.) 

Doctor  (coming  down).  To  give  up  using  so  much  meat 
you  should.  It  is  too  much  blood  it  is  making.  Wait  now 
till  I  will  notch  on  an  elder  stick  the  diet  for  your  days.  Not 
more  now  than  one  sucking  pig  for  breakfast ;  and  for  dinner, 
one  quarter  of  beef;  and  at  supper,  a  sheep  boiled  in  cow's 
milk.  (Giant  gives  a  groan.)  Or  two  sheep — not  to  be  too 
hard  on  you  in  the  commencement.  I  will  stop  and  see  you 
eating  this  day's  meal  myself. 

Giant.  That  would  be  too  troublesome;  it  would  be 
hardly  worth  while  change  my  diet  between  this  and  the 
feast  I  will  be  giving  in  a  few  days  for  the  wedding  of  the 
Grugach  of  the  Humming. 

Wife.  Ah,  give  over  fooling.  What  ails  you  not  to 
speak  out  the  truth  to  a  doctor  that  should  know  what  you 
eat  as  well  as  if  he  was  inside  you? 

Giant.     I  am  not  willing. 

Wife.  I  tell  you  it  doesn't  signify  giving  out  your  case  to 
a  doctor  that  is  bound  under  bonds  to  betray  your  secret  to 
no  other  one. 

Giant.  One  person  to  know  it,  and  you  to  know  him  to 
know  it,  is  the  same  as  if  it  was  known  to  all  the  world. 

Wife.  He  is  ashamed  telling  you  meat  does  not  suit  him. 
His  talk  of  boars  and  of  bullocks  are  from  the  stories  and 
vanities  of  the  books.    He  does  not  use  but  a  pot  of  stirabout 


■i"i""ii"i'"l"imnilllllllll/lllll/- 


l"Mll[|lllc""l"i"""'i"'""l"l 


c-y^^^^vHcv^^t^v^^^-~; 


r  ^^'''^""^"^•"'^ 


"Would  you  put  him  to  the  trouble  to  make  a  staircase,  cutting 
notches  in  the  backs  of  my  legs?  " 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  59 

in  the  morning  and  a  hen's  egg,  maybe,  for  kitchen  with  his 
barley  bread  at  night. 

Giant.    A  goose's  egg!    A  goose's. 

Doctor.  I  knew  well  he  was  but  hximbugging  and  talking 
foolishly. 

Wife.  You  need  not  be  making  little  of  him  on  the 
head  of  it.  It  does  not  lessen  his  courage  if  he  uses  no 
meat,  he  having  a  weak  stomach,  since  the  time  he  was  a 
child. 

Doctor.  Give  me  a  hold  of  your  pulse.  It  is  much  if  I  do 
not  put  you  under  a  curse  of  blisters  for  striving  to  hide  from 
me  your  case. 

Wife.  There  is  some  doctors  who  can  recognize  what 
sickness  is  on  a  man  by  the  smoke  they  see  going  out  of  the 
chimney  of  his  house.  I  knew  of  one  could  tell  it  by  measur- 
ing you. 

Doctor  (sarcastically).  He  would!  Or  by  the  colour  of 
your  hair. 

Giant.  It  is  a  hard  thing  I  to  use  so  little,  not  like  some 
would-be  gluttonous,  and  to  have  that  pain  and  depression 
on  my  chest. 

Doctor.     Does  the  pain  be  leaping  from  side  to  side? 

Giant.     It  does. 

Doctor.  There  does  be  no  leaping  at  some  times,  but 
quiet? 

Giant.     That  is  so. 

Doctor.  1  knew  well  I  would  come  at  it.  It  is  in  great 
danger  you  are.    Did  you  ever  go  asleep  in  a  meadow,  and 


6o  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

your  mouth  to  be  open,  and  you  to  be  stretched  alongside  a 
running  stream? 

Giant.     It  is  Hkely  I  might. 

Doctor.  I  was  sure  of  that.  It  is  what  I  am  thinking, 
you  have  swallowed  a  water- worm  or  an  eel. 

Giant.     Do  you  say  so? 

Doctor.     That  is  what  is  destroying  you. 

Gia7it.  So  it  will  be  too.  It  to  be  growing  in  bulk  within 
me  till  it  will  get  to  be  the  size  of  a  sea-serpent,  and  I  myself 
getting  to  be  as  thin  as  thin! 

Doctor.  When  he  does  be  uneasy,  the  place  being  strange 
to  him,  that  is  the  time  you  feel  the  pain. 

Giant.     That's  it!    That  it  is. 

Doctor.  And  the  time  he  does  be  quiet  is  the  time  he 
does  be  consuming  everything  that  you  will  eat. 

Giant.  1  felt  it — I  can  nearly  hear  it !  It  is  leaping  in  me 
the  same  as  a  little  bird ! 

Wife.     What  way  will  you  do  a  cure  on  him? 

Doctor.  I  will  lay  my  mind  now  to  that.  {A  knock  at 
door.) 

Giant.     Who  at  all  is  this? 

Wife.     I  wouldn't  wonder  it  to  be  the  Witch. 

Doctor.  Is  it  the  Hag  of  Slaughter?  It  is  best  for  me  go 
back  out  of  this. 

Giant.  No,  but  stop  there  alongside  the  hearth  till  she 
will  be  gone,  and  you  can  work  on  me  my  cure.  She  will  not 
meddle  with  you  at  all. 

Witch    {coming  in).     Death   and   destruction   on   you. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  6i 

Fatach  Mor,  where  you  parted  with  my  ball  of  thread  to  a 
thief! 

Wife.  There  you  have  your  answer.  If  it  was  a  thief 
got  it,  it  was  a  thief  took  it. 

Giant.     What  was  it  he  stole? 

Witch.  He  stole  more  than  riches.  There  is  one  thing  he 
stole  will  fall  heavy  upon  yourself. 

Giant.     What  now  is  that? 

Witch.  He  has  taken  my  daughter's  fancy.  She  would 
give  him  her  share  of  the  world  and  herself  along  with  it. 
He  has  stolen  her  love. 

Wife.     Why  would  that  fall  heavy  on  Fatach  Mor? 

Witch.  She  has  her  mind  made  up  not  to  marry  and  wed 
with  the  Grugach  of  the  Humming,  since  she  threw  her  eye  on 
one  of  the  world's  men. 

Giant.     Is  it  that  she  will  break  off  the  match? 

Witch.     That  is  what  I  am  telling  you. 

Wife.  There  will  be  no  need,  so,  for  us  to  make  ready  the 
supper  and  the  feast.    You  can  put  him  off  on  the  long  finger. 

Giant.  Do  you  want  to  make  an  end  of  me  altogether? 
The  Scotch  are  no  way  favourable  to  deal  with,  and  they  are 
apt  to  be  tricky  in  the  finish,  not  getting  their  own  way. 

Wife.     Find  him  another  wife  so. 

Giant.  That  is  not  so  easy  as  you  think.  If  he  is  no  way 
handsome  himself,  he  expects  the  youngest  and  the  grandest 
in  the  world. 

Witch.  It  is  well  you  have  earned  trouble,  and  it  to  fall  on 
you,  where  you  gave  a  harbour  to  the  King  of  Ireland's  son. 


62  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Doctor  {coming  forward).  Is  it  that  you  are  acquainted 
with  the  King  of  Ireland's  son? 

Giant.  To  steal  my  ball  of  flax  he  did,  and  made  his 
escape  through  that  side  door. 

Witch.  He  has  stolen  another  thing.  The  Golden  Apple 
from  the  Tree  of  Power. 

Doctor.     He  has  got  that? 

Witch.     To  snap  it  away  he  did,  and  to  go. 

Doctor.     He  brought  away  the  apple  of  healing? 

Witch.  If  he  did  I  will  get  it  back  again.  It  is  for  that  I 
am  come  here.  This  road  is  partly  on  his  way  home.  Let 
you  make  a  trap  for  him. 

Giant.     Myself  is  it? 

Witch.  He  will  be  in  need  of  provision.  I  have  the 
money  in  his  purse  changed  into  pebbles  of  flint.  It  is  likely 
he  will  turn  up  to  this  door. 

Giant.  1  have  no  mind  to  see  him  at  all.  Let  him  go  on 
his  way. 

Witch.  I  thought  to  get  more  thankfulness  after  all  I 
have  done  for  you,  promising  my  own  daughter  to  your 
kinsman. 

Giant.  That  promise  is  broke.  He  to  come  here  itself  it 
is  likely  he  would  refuse  me  the  apple. 

Witch.  He  will  refuse  it  surely.  It  is  to  fight  him  you 
must. 

Giant.  I  have  no  mind  to  go  join  in  other  people's 
quarrels. 

Witch.    All  you  want  is  the  courage.    You  are  well  able 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  63 

to  best  him.  He  is  but  a  lad.  No  sign  of  a  beard  on  him 
unless  he  would  paint  himself  with  blackberry  juice. 

Giant.  What  way  can  I  go  killing  and  fighting,  and  a 
live  worm  being  within  me,  is  leaping  on  every  side? 

Doctor.     Are  you  looking  for  a  certain  cure? 

Giant.     Why  would  I  send  for  you  if  I  was  not? 

Doctor.  There  is  but  one  cure  for  you  to  be  found.  Not 
having  it,  you  will  waste  and  wither  and  be  that  water- 
worm's  prey. 

Giant.     Give  it  to  me  without  delay. 

Doctor.     It  is  that  apple  that  is  after  being  stole. 

Giant.     What  use  is  that,  and  it  not  being  in  my  hand?| 

Doctor.  You  have  to  fight  and  put  down  the  man  that 
has  it. 

Giant.     Wouldn't  some  other  apple  do? 

Doctor.  If  you  set  no  value  on  your  own  life  I  may  as 
well  say  good-bye  to  you. 

Witch.  I  will  go  bring  the  young  lad  a  challenge  from 
you.  It  is  not  long  till  he  will  blow  the  horn  of  battle  at  the 
door.     (Goes.) 

Giant.     I  will  refuse!    To  force  me  is  no  fair  play. 

Doctor  {to  Wife,  putting  on  hat).  He  will  not  be  long  with 
you.  But  you  will  be  free  from  the  cost  of  burying  him,  for 
you  will  find  no  coffin  will  fit  himself  and  the  water-worm. 
It  is  best  throw  them  into  the  tide.     {Is  going.) 

Giant.  Do  not  go !  I'll  make  an  attack  on  him !  I'll  put 
him  down,  if  he  is  a  king's  son!  I'll  devour  him  first  and  the 
apple  after! 


64  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Doctor.  No,  but  to  do  that  would  destroy  you  entirely. 
The  monster  is  within  you  would  get  strength  by  that,  and 
the  lengthening  of  life.  He  will  live  to  the  womb  of  judg- 
ment !    It  is  to  me  myself  you  have  to  give  the  apple. 

Giant.     And  what  way  will  you  rid  me  of  him? 

Doctor.  To  eat  bacon  and  herrings  and  every  salty  thing 
you  should,  till  there  will  be  a  great  drought  on  him,  and  to 
lie  down  on  the  grass  outside,  and  your  mouth  to  be  open,  and 
the  apple  convenient  to  it. 

Giant.     What  will  happen  me  then? 

Doctor.  To  go  wild  mad  with  the  drouth  he  will ;  getting 
the  smell  of  the  apple  that  is  full  of  juice,  he  will  make  a  leap 
out  of  your  mouth,  and,  believe  me,  he  will  never  enter 
into  it  again. 

Giant.     That  is  a  great  plan  now. 

Wife.  Can  you  find  no  other  way  to  cure  him?  A  great 
shame  and  a  great  pity  the  lad  to  have  gone  through  such 
hardships  for  the  apple,  and  not  to  bring  it  home  to  his  father 
after  all,  that  is  lying  at  the  point  of  death.  There  must 
have  been  great  need  on  the  King  when  he  sent  the  man  is 
dearest  to  him  in  the  world  into  such  danger  for  his  sake. 

Giant.  That's  the  way  with  the  wife  I  have,  thinking  of 
every  other  person's  health  before  my  own. 

Wife.     Have  you  no  kindness  in  you  at  all? 

Giant.  It  would  be  an  unkind  man  would  not  be  kind  to 
his  own  life.     {Horn  of  battle  is  heard.) 

Doctor.  Here  is  he  coming !  It  is  best  for  me  not  to  be 
seen.    I  would  not  wish  to  be  taking  a  side. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  65 

Giant.  Is  it  after  shoving  me  into  danger  that  you  will 
not  lend  me  a  hand? 

Doctor.  I  have  here  some  ointment.  I  will  rub  it  upon 
the  boards.  Let  you  drive  him  out  this  door,  and  it  will  be 
easy  knock  him.    {Rubs  near  door,  Right.) 

Wife.  A  black  shame  on  you.  That  you  may  die  hard 
and  die  as  you  deserve  it ! 

(Horn  heard  again.    Doctor  hides.    Wife  opens  door, 
Left.     Rury  and  Simon  come  in.) 

Giant  {standing  up).  Did  you  take  notice  of  those  forks 
outside? 

Rury.     I  did  not. 

Giant.  Every  one  of  them  having  a  head  on  it  but  the 
one  that  is  waiting  for  your  head. 

Rury.  Is  it  my  head  or  your  own  head  that  will  go  on  the 
top  of  that  spike? 

Giant.  Give  me  up  the  apple  you  are  after  stealing,  and 
I  will  let  you  go  free  out  of  this. 

Rury.  I  will  give  you  nothing  at  all,  only  a  green  sod 
over  your  head ! 

Giant.  Come  on  till  I  will  put  you  under  my  long  cold  teeth ! 

Rury.  Don't  be  thinking  it's  on  feather  beds  I'll  put 
yourself  the  time  I  will  bring  you  down ! 

Giant.  I  think  you  too  big  for  one  mouthful  and  not  big 
enough  for  two  mouthf uls !  It  is  snuff  I  will  make  of  your 
bones. 

Rury.  There  are  three  shares  of  dread  on  you  and  not  a 
share  at  all  upon  myself! 


66  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Giant.  It  is  boiled  blood  I  will  be  drinking  with  my 
supper  to-night! 

Simon.  Go  on,  Riiry,  go  on!  I  will  come  behind  and 
tickle  his  ankles  till  he  will  stoop  down  to  be  scratching  them ! 

Giant.  Is  it  fighting  on  fiery  flagstones  you  are  used  to, 
or  sticking  red-hot  knives  into  one  another's  hearts? 

Rury.  It  is  with  this  sword  I  will  fight,  that  was  cooled 
with  three  drops  of  lions'  blood! 

Giant.  So  I  have  a  sword  of  my  own  that  nothing  can 
stand  against!  I  am  after  drawing  it  through  the  heart  of 
the  last  man  of  three  hundred! 

Simon.  Go  on,  till  we'll  see  Prince  Rury's  noble  white 
silken  feet  go  up,  and  your  big  ugly  feet  go  down! 

Rury.     Come  on,  now! 

Giant.     Go,  take  your  stand  on  that  spot  beside  the  door! 

Rury.  No,  but  it  is  yourself  I  will  put  out  through  the 
door! 

Simon.  If  it  fails  you  to  knock  him,  try  can  you  stagger 
him !  ( Tries  in  vain  to  tickle  stilts.)  There  is  great  stand  in  him. 

Giant.  If  you  are  a  half  of  the  world,  I  am  three  quarters 
of  the  world ! 

Simon.  Make  a  ball  of  him  till  his  toes  will  be  telling 
mischief  and  misfortune  into  the  holes  of  his  ears ! 

Giant  {with  a  roar) .    Make  ready  the  big  pot  to  boil  him  in ! 

{Rury  rushes  at  him.     Giant  hacks  through  door,  L., 

Rury  and  Simon  rush  after  him.    A  heavy  fall  is 

heard  and  roar.    They  come  back  dragging  Giant 

hy  the  stilts.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  67 

Rury.  It  is  much  if  I  give  you  your  choice  of  two  sods  of 
the  earth  to  die  on! 

Simon.     That's  it!    Tie  him  with  the  five  knots ! 

Giafit.  Leave  me  my  life  and  I  will  give  you  my  sword 
that  will  cut  through  a  black  stump  of  a  log ! 

Rury.  I  see  nothing  blacker  or  uglier  than  your  own  head  I 

{Lifts  sword.) 

Simon.  Strike  the  head  off  him!  Put  the  cold  of  the 
sword  to  the  marrow  after  that,  till  it  will  freeze  and  be 
scalded  with  cold! 

Wife.     As  you  are  strong,  be  merciful ! 

Rury.     Do  you  give  in  altogether? 

Giant.  I  give  you  the  victory  and  my  seven  thousand 
curses ! 

Rury.     Didn't  you  know  I  was  a  Connacht  man? 

Simon.     It's  as  good  for  you  to  kill  him  out  and  out. 

Wife.  Do  not.  There  is  no  great  harm  in  him  except  of 
a  time  he  would  be  showing  off.  Ask  mercy  now  and 
promise  better  behaviour. 

Giant.  If  I  am  a  third  of  the  world,  yourself  is  the  half  of 
the  world.  Let  me  off  now  and  I'll  give  my  seven  oaths  I  will 
never  lay  a  cross  finger  on  you  again. 

Rury.  I  am  satisfied  so.  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  go  on  my 
way. 

{Rury  is  going  out  quickly  hy  R.  door.  He  slips  and 
falls  with  a  cry.  The  apple  rolls  out.  Doctor 
steals  from  corner  and  seizes  it  while  Wife  and 
Simon  stoop  to  help  Rury.) 


68  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Siinon.  It  is  the  ankle  is  twisted  on  him.  Rise  up  now 
if  you  can. 

Wife.     Come  out  here,  Doctor,  and  do  your  best  for  him. 
Doctor.     It  is  best  bring  him  out  by  the  side  of  the  road 
and  put  a  bed  of  green  rushes  under  him. 

{He  puts  apple  in  his  pocket  and  goes  to  door,  Right, 
as  they  help  Rtiry  to  rise  and  go  out,  Left.) 
Giant  {mournfully).     He  brought  away  the  apple  in  the 
heel! 

Doctor.  You  are  not  in  need  of  it.  I  have  the  worm 
banished  in  another  way.  Believe  me,  you  will  not  feel  it 
leaping  any  more. 

{Steals  out  quickly  as  Rury  is  helped  out  at  other  door.) 

End  of   Scene  II.,  Act  II. 


Act  II.    Scene  III. 

A  roadside.  Rury  sitting  up,  half  leaning  on  the  grass. 
Simon  looking  at  him. 

Simon.  You  are  not  fit  to  rise  up  at  all,  with  weakness 
and  want  of  sleep. 

Rtiry.  I  have  too  much  time  lost.  We  must  go  on  our 
journey  home  to  Ireland. 

Simon.     I  don't  know  at  all  what  was  it  knocked  you. 

Rtiry.     It  is  the  floor  was  as  slippery  as  the  flesh  of  eels. 

Simon.  No  wonder  you  to  be  left  in  a  weakness,  lying 
by  the  road  out  through  the  clouds  of  night. 

Rury.     Were  we  here  all  through  the  night-time? 

Simon.  We  were  till  the  night  kissed  the  dawn,  and 
beyond  that  again.  There  is  red  showing  now  in  the 
evening  sky. 

Rury.  It  is  far  from  my  darling  I  will  see  the  dawn  of 
every  day ! 

Simon.  I  would  wish  us  to  be  farther  again,  and  our 
back  to  the  garden  and  all  that  we  have  gone  through. 

Rury.  I  am  lonesome  after  her.  I  to  have  seen  her 
once  it  is  a  pity  I  do  not  see  her  every  minute. 

69 


70  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simon.  It  is  lonesome  enough  I  am  myself.  Lonesome 
after  my  supper  I  am. 

Riiry.  Full  or  fasting  we  must  go  on  till  we  bring  the 
cure  to  my  father. 

Simon.  I  would  like  well  to  be  in  the  King's  house,  but 
I  would  not  like  to  be  travelling  to  it.  It's  there  you  would 
not  be  hungry  or  dry ! 

Rury.     It  is  time  for  us  set  out. 

Simon.  What  ails  you  to  be  in  such  a  hurry?  Is  it  that 
the  King  gave  you  for  a  mother  the  wind  of  March?  I 
wonder  now  what  are  they  eating  for  their  meal  at  this 
time?  Roasted  pork  with  the  cracklings,  black  puddings, 
and  rounds  of  beef. 

Rury.  Barley  bread  would  be  enough  to  give  us  strength 
if  we  but  had  it. 

Simon.  There  is  an  old  story  carrying  among  people, 
that  when  a  prince  went  meeting  enchantments  he  would 
be  apt  to  be  given  a  tablecloth  would  be  covered  with  every 
choice  food,  boiled  and  ready.  Ah,  what  am  I  talking  about. 
I'd  be  in  heaven  having  a  sheep's  trotter  in  my  hand,  and 
a  bit  of  a  sixpenny  loaf. 

Rury.  Why  wouldn't  you  traffic  for  food  in  some  place, 
and  then  we  will  go  on. 

Simon.  Give  me  the  purse  so.  If  ever  I  get  the  chance 
of  food  again  I  will  eat  my  seven  enoughs ! 

Rury.     Here  it  is.     {Gives  purse.) 

Simon  (openijtg  it) .  What  happened  the  money !  What 
now  is  this ! 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  71 

Rury  (looking).     There  is  nothing  but  pebbles  of  flint. 

Simon.  As  sure  as  you're  living  that  is  an  enchant- 
ment put  upon  us  by  the  Witch! 

Rury.     It  is  gone,  whatever  happened. 

Simon.  We  may  as  well,  so,  give  in  to  famine.  We'll  be 
that  thin  by  morning  they  can  play  cards  with  our  corpses 
at  the  wake. 

Rury.  Give  me  my  little  crossbow.  It  might  chance 
me  to  make  a  shot  at  a  wild  duck  or  at  a  swan.     (Goes  off.) 

Simon.  Don't  make  little  of  a  crane  itself,  or  a  marten 
cat  or  a  coney.  I  think  that  I  have  stood  upon  the  hungry- 
grass.  (Listens,  then  calls  out.)  Come  back  now!  I  hear 
the  trots  of  horses!     There  is  a  knot  of  people  coming. 

(Voices  heard  and  some  well-to-do  people  come  in. 
Simoft  has  sunk  down  on  the  roadside,  swaying 
his  body.) 

1st  Stranger.  Is  this  the  path  leading  to  the  house  of 
Fatach  Mor  the  Giant? 

Simon.     It  is — I  believe. 

1st  Stranger.     Is  it  far? 

Simon.     It  is  not. 

1st  Stranger  (to  others).  Come  on  so,  we'll  be  there  as 
soon  as  the  Grugach  of  the  Humming. 

2d  Stranger.  He  came  sooner  than  was  thought.  It 
is  a  wedding  in  a  hurry  it  will  be. 

ist  Stranger.  It  may  be  there  will  be  no  wedding  at  all 
in  it.  They  were  telling  me  below  in  the  drinking  tent,  it 
has  failed  the  Giant  to  find  him  a  wife. 


72  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

2d  Stra7iger.  It  is  a  bad  man  to  anger  he  should  be. 
It  is  to  cut  the  head  off  of  the  guests  he  might. 

ist  Stranger.  No  but  another  was  saying  the  Hag  of 
Slaughter  has  taken  it  in  hand,  and  has  her  promise  given  to 
find  him  one  that  will  be  to  his  liking. 

2d  Stranger.  So  long  as  the  supper  is  ready  and  the 
music,  we  are  all  right,  bride  or  no  bride.     I'll  chance  it. 

Come  on. 

{Simon  gives  a  low  keen.) 

1st  Stranger.     What  is  on  you? 

Simon.  Enough  of  trouble  is  on  me,  where  the  King's 
son  of  Ireland  is  after  meeting  with  his  death. 

1st  Stranger.     Is  that  so!    The  King's  son  dead? 

Simon.  In  this  far  foreign  place.  No  one  to  keen 
him  or  to  lay  him  out,  because  of  his  own  people  being  far 
away. 

1st  Stranger.  We  will  turn  aside  and  go  three  steps 
with  the  corpse. 

Simon.  It  is  a  good  way  from  this,  a  half  a  day's  journey 
— in  the  wide  middle  of  a  bog. 

1st  Stranger.  We  cannot  go  so  far.  We  have  to  be  at 
the  Giant's  house  by  supper-time. 

Simon.  What  signifies,  what  signifies?  It  is  not  com- 
pany he  will  want  going  home  to  the  Court  and  Castle  of 
the  King.  All  the  strands  of  Ireland  will  be  fretting  after 
him  till  they  will  go  down  and  be  lost  under  the  tide.  But 
to  leave  him  the  first  night  with  no  one  to  wake  him,  in  the 
middle  of  a  bog ! 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  73 

1st  Stranger.     Are  there  no  neighbours  to  call  in? 

Simon.  Turf -cutters  and  chair-makers  I  could  call,  and 
I  having  food  and  drink  to  give  them.  But  I  never  would  be 
willing  to  call  any  one  to  a  hungry  wake! 

2d  Stranger.  I  will  give  you  something  for  that  and 
welcome.     Here  is  meat  and  bread. 

Simon.  To  lay  him  out  I  would  wish  as  a  King's  son 
— a  bag  of  gold  under  his  head,  a  bag  of  silver  under  his 
feet. 

Strangers.  Here,  take  this,  and  this,  and  this  (they 
give  him  money)  for  the  King  of  Ireland's  sake.  If  it  was 
not  for  dread  of  the  Grugach  and  the  Giant  we  would  travel 
with  you  every  foot  of  the  way.     {They  go.) 

Simon  {calling  after  them).  It  is  not  losing  money  you 
are,  giving  it  this  time!  It  is  well  it  will  be  remembered  in 
Ireland.  {Sound  of  crows  cawing  as  they  go  away.)  Go  on 
with  your  cawing,  ye  thieves  of  the  air!  Is  it  looking  for 
the  dead  prince  ye  are?  Is  it  that  ye  will  tell  that  story 
out  to  the  world  at  large? 

Witch  {coming  in  dressed  as  a  harper).  Who  is  it  you  are 
waiting  for,  Bird- Alone? 

Simon.  My  master  that  is  gone  fowling.  He  is  not 
gone  far.  Why  now  are  you  yourself  and  your  harp  going 
away  from  the  great  feast,  and  every  other  one  facing  towards 
it? 

Witch.  So  I  was  in  it.  I  will  maybe  go  back  after  a 
while. 

Simon.     What  way  is  the  Giant? 


74  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Witch.  Middling  only.  I  heard  some  talk  of  a  fight  he 
had. 

Simon.  Sure  it  is  with  my  own  master  he  had  it.  It 
was  my  master  beat  him.  It  is  on  the  head  of  an  apple 
the  fight  was. 

Witch.     He  is  letting  on  he  won  the  day. 

Simon.  What  way  did  he  win  the  day  when  he  did  not 
win  the  Golden  Apple? 

Witch.     Has  your  master  got  the  apple  with  him  yet? 

Simon.  He  has,  to  be  sure.  Where  it  was  before, 
within  in  the  pocket  of  his  body-coat. 

Witch.     He  should  be  tired  with  all  he  went  through. 

Simon.  He  is  and  spent.  His  heart  will  rise  when  he 
has  food  taken.     It  is  a  great  pity  they  left  me  no  wine. 

Witch.  You  can  buy  it  down  below.  There  is  wine 
and  beer  selling  in  a  little  cabin  made  of  green  branches  to 
refresh  the  people  are  on  their  way  to  the  Giant's  feast. 

Simon.  I  wouldn't  wonder  but  they'd  want  it,  the 
Giant's  wife  being  no  great  housekeeper. 

Witch.     Go  on  now  for  it. 

Simon.     Here  is  my  master  coming.     (Rury  comes.) 

Riiry.     All  I  got  was  this  cormorant.     {Throws  it  down.) 

Simon.  That  much  wouldn't  take  the  himger  off  us. 
See  now  am  I  a  good  forager  on  the  road !  See  what  I  got 
myself,  with  no  weapon  at  all — only  lies.  {Gives  him  food.) 
I  will  go  now  get  wine  that  will  hearten  you. 

Rury.     Let  you  hasten  so.     We  have  enough  of  time  lost . 

{Simon  goes.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  75 

Witch.  I  will  rise  a  time  for  you,  King  of  Ireland's 
son. 

Rury  Slying  down  on  the  grass  and  eating).  I  never 
refused  music  up  to  this;  but  let  it  be  a  short  tune. 
{Witch  lays  down  harp,  it  begins  playing  of  itself.) 

Witch  {in  a  drowsy  tone).  Play,  little  harp  of  willow 
wood,  that  lived  sleepy  with  love  of  your  own  likeness  and 
your  shadow  in  the  stream —  Play  on!  Give  the 
Prince  rest  for  a  while.  Play  every  one  of  you,  strings  {she 
waves  her  hands  over  Rury)  that  were  drawn  from  the  beasts 
rocking  in  the  slumberous  sounds  of  the  sea.  Play  a  little 
song  would  put  him  in  his  sleep  through  the  sawing  of  timber 
in  a  pit,  or  the  screeches  from  the  Island  of  Cold.  {Rury 
sleeps  'brofoundly.  Witch  kneels  a?id  searches  his  clothes. 
She  gets  up.)  It  is  not  here!  The  apple  is  not  here !  They 
are  all  deceiving  me!  The  Giant  is  deceiving  me;  he  has 
maybe  got  it  in  his  house.  I'll  tear  it  from  his  keeping! 
I'll  master  him!  {She  rushes  off,  leaving  harp,  which  goes 
on  playing  softly.) 

{Muireann  comes  in.     She  has  her  arms  out  as  if 
distracted.     She  is  dressed  in  rich  clothes.) 

Muireann.  Where  is  he!  Where  is  he?  Where  is 
Rury,  my  darling  that  is  dead ! —  Oh !  He  is  there !  The 
crows  of  the  air  were  telling  no  lie  saying  you  were  dead 
and  gone!  {She  keens  and  makes  her  lament.)  Oh,  Rury! 
Oh,  my  first  love !  My  first  darling  of  the  men  of  the  world ! 
There  is  no  night  in  the  year  I  would  not  burn  a  penny 
candle  looking  at  your  beauty!     It  is  what  I  will  be  bring- 


76  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

ing  with  me  from  this  out,  the  full  of  my  two  shoes  of 
sorrow ! 

The  first  day  of  summer  will  come,  the  first  day  of 
winter  will  come.  Every  bird  will  come  back  to  its  own 
nest,  but  Rury  my  darling  will  not  come  back  to  me  for 
ever! 

It  is  a  withered  world  it  is!  It  is  not  long  I  will  stay 
living  in  it.  I  to  be  left  my  alone,  the  same  as  the  last 
tree  of  a  wood!     Let  the  two  of  us  be  laid  in  the  one  grave! 

Good-bye  to  you,  my  five  little  fishes.  {She  takes  fishes 
which  are  tied  in  a  hunch  hangijtg  by  her  waist.)  I  am 
thinking  you  will  not  live  after  me.  It  is  near  a  pity  I  did 
not  leave  you  where  you  were  in  the  well.  My  grief!  If 
I  had  but  the  loan  of  a  little  silver  lake ! 

Simon  (coming  back).  The  King  of  Spain's  daughter! 
What  in  the  world  wide  brought  you  here,  ma'am,  and  what 
is  it  ails  you? 

Muireann.  The  birds  overhead  that  told  me  the  King's 
son  of  Ireland  was  dead. 

Simon.  You  grew  to  be  very  skilful  picking  knowledge 
from  the  air. 

Muirea7in.  What  are  you  yourself  doing,  not  to  be 
crying  and  keening  him?  It  is  a  bad  friend  and  a  bad 
servant  you  are  letting  him  die!  You  to  have  had  the 
smallest  wound  in  the  world,  he  would  have  searched  out 
herbs  of  healing  to  put  round  about  you.  Why  did  it  fail 
you  to  go  search  the  whole  face  of  the  world  for  a  ciire  for 
the  King's  son? 


"Play,  little   harp   of  willow  wood,  that  lived   sleepy  with  love  of 
your  own  likeness  and  your  shadow  in  the  stream — ■ — " 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  77 

Simon.  Is  it  that  you  think  it  is  to  die  he  done?  He 
did  not,  but  a  fit  of  slumber  that  came  upon  him. 

Muireajin.     Why  did  the  birds  say  it? 

Simo7i.  Chatterers  they  are,  running  telling  that  I  said 
him  to  be  dead.     If  I  did,  I  was  letting  on  all  the  time. 

Muireann.  You  had  no  right  even  for  a  playgame  to  say 
out  such  a  terrible  thing ! 

Simon.  I  not  to  have  said  it,  it  is  likely  it  would  be 
true  before  this.  I  gave  out  his  death  for  to  keep  life  in 
him. 

Muireann.     He  will  not  move.     What  way  can  I  believe 

you? 

Simo7i.  He  is  but  getting  his  quiet  and  his  comfort  in  a 
fit  of  slimiber  that  came  on  him  after  eating  his  meal.  There 
is  no  .harm  at  all  in  that.  The  sleep  is  the  health  of  all. 
He  to  be  awake,  there  is  no  knowing  what  battle  or  fight  he 
might  be  in! 

Muireann.     It  fails  me  to  waken  him  in  any  way. 

Simon.  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  the  playing  of  that 
harp.  {Takes  it  and  covers  with  a  cloak.)  More  enchant- 
ments! I  having  a  bit  of  tow  in  my  ear  against  the  tooth- 
ache it  did  not  take  the  same  effect  upon  myself. 

Muireann.  Waken,  Rury!  You  will  waken  when  you 
hear  my  voice! 

Simon  {shaking  him).  Rise  up  now  and  see  who  is 
before  you ! 

Muireann.  Listen,  listen,  I  am  in  great  danger.  It  is 
the  Witch  that  dragged  me  as  far  as  this.     She  bade  me 


78  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

put  on  good  clothes —  She  said  it  was  to  meet  you  I  was 
coming.     And  then — 

Simon.     What  plan  had  she  in  her  head? 

Miiireann.  Rury!  Waken!  Help  me!  I  heard  her 
telling  some  person  a  while  ago  she  was  bringing  me  to  be  a 
wife  to  the  Grugach  that  her  own  daughter  had  refused  to 
wed. 

Simon.  The  curse  of  the  crows  on  her!  Isn't  she  the 
black  villain ! 

Muireann.  She  left  me  under  a  bush  of  shelter  in  the 
valley  beyond;  it  is  there  I  heard  the  talk  of  the  birds. 
She  will  be  coming  back.     Rise  up  now  out  of  your  sleep ! 

Simon.  Rise  up,  indeed.  I  am  in  dread  the  Giant  is  not 
asleep. 

Muireann.  Did  I  give  you  my  love  and  will  you  fail 
me?     {He  moves.)     {A  roar  is  heard.) 

Simon  {looking  down  the  road).  That  is  the  Giant,  sure 
enough.     I  partly  guessed  his  roar. 

Muireann.  They  are  coming!  Oh,  save  him  if  they 
take  me!  Cover  him  over  with  branches  or  with  grass! 
Here  I  will  put  my  golden  mitten  in  yoiu:  hand,  that  you 
will  know  I  was  with  you 

Giant  {coming  in  with  Witch).  Is  it  this  one  is  to  be 
given  to  the  Grugach? 

Witch.     It  is.     Let  him  take  her  or  leave  her. 

Giant.  It  is  easy  matchmaking  there  will  be,  and  she  to 
be  put  into  my  hand. 

Witch.     There  is  the  King's  son  in  his  sleep  on  the  grass. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  79 

Giant.  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  him.  I  am  under 
bonds  not  to  do  him  hiurt  or  harm.  Let  him  sleep  on  through 
the  length  of  the  year. 

Witch.     Bring  away  the  girl  so. 

Giant.  Well  now  you  have  spared  me  a  good  deal  of 
trouble.  She  has  a  lovely  face.  (To  Muireann.)  Come 
on  now. 

Muireann.  Do  not  bring  me  away!  Leave  me  here! 
I  would  sooner  go  to  my  death. 

Giant.  The  guests  are  come  and  the  tables  are  spread. 
There  is  nothing  wanting,  only  yourself.  I  will  lift  you  into 
the  air  the  same  as  a  wisp  of  straw.     {Giant  and  Girl  go.) 

Muireann  {heard  calling).     Rury!     Rury!     Rury! 

Rury  {stirring).     Who  is  that  calling  me? 

Simon.  The  Lord  be  praised  he  didn't  waken  sooner. 
He'd  be  made  an  end  of  surely,  and  he  to  go  following  after 
them  the  way  he  is. 

Rury.     There  was  some  one  calling  me  by  my  name. 

Simon.  Ah!  It  was  dreaming  you  were,  or  listening 
to  the  grasshoppers  in  the  grass. 

Rury.  I  am  certain  I  heard  a  call.  It  was  nearly  like 
Muireann's  voice. 

Simon.  It  is  close  to  the  fall  of  night.  Come  on  now  on 
your  journey. 

Rury.  Muireann!  How  happy  I  would  be  if  I  was 
going  back  to  her  now — to  find  her  by  the  brink  of  the  well. 

Simon.  Is  it  that  you  are  forgetting  the  King  that  is 
watching  the  windows  till  he  will  see  you  come? 


8o  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Riiry.  You  are  right.  I  must  go  on  to  him.  I  will 
give  him  the  cure.     I  will  set  out  again  the  very  same  day. 

Simon.  You  might  or  you  might  not.  Every  new 
meeting  is  a  new  bargain.  I  would  be  wary  of  going  back 
again  into  the  Witch's  garden,  where  she  might  chop  a  tree 
against  your  life.  It  might  be  best  find  some  other  young 
beauty  on  our  own  side  of  the  world. 

Rury.  I  have  but  to  give  him  the  apple  of  healing.  I 
can  turn  my  back  then,  my  message  being  done. 

Simon.  Fatach  Mor  had  a  great  opinion  of  himself, 
thinking  to  take  it  from  you. 

Rury.     Where  is  it?     I  put  it  in  here 

Simon.  It  was  in  no  other  place.  {They  search.)  A 
sore  heart  and  cold  flesh  on  them!  As  sure  as  you  are 
standing  there  they  have  the  apple  whipped. 

Rury.  The  Witch,  or  Giant,  or  whoever  took  it  must 
have  snapped  it  away  as  quick  as  a  hawk. 

Simon.  As  sure  as  you  live  it  was  stole  by  that  little 
cannat  of  a  doctor.  It  is  going  through  me  that  he  was 
near  us  at  that  fight, 

Rury.  It  might  be  so.  I  thought  I  saw  some  unkind 
face  through  my  faint.     But  why  would  he  rob  it? 

Simon.  To  bring  it  home  to  the  King  I'll  engage,  and  to 
let  on  he  to  have  won  it  himself.  It's  best  for  us  hurry  on 
after  him  by  the  shortest  road,  that  is  here  by  this  path  to 
the  west. 

Rury.  We  should  overtake  him  if  we  travel  on  through 
the  night. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  8i 

Simon.     We'll  make  a  start  anyway. 

Rury.  Give  me  my  sword.  What  is  that  on  it?  A 
little  golden  mitten 

Simon.     So  it  is  too. 

Rury.  It  was  she  left  it  here.  She  was  surely  here  in 
this  place. 

Sifiton.     It  might  have  come  in  some  other  way. 

Rury.  It  was  her  call  I  heard!  Where  is  she?  You 
know,  and  you  do  not  tell  me!  She  was  here  when  I  was 
asleep ! 

Simon.  Leave  choking  me!  If  I  did  not  tell  you  it 
was  for  your  good.  You  are  no  way  fit  to  go  fighting.  If 
you  have  no  wish  to  be  scalded  it's  best  not  go  stir  the  pot. 

Rury.  Where  is  she?  Tell  me  or  I  will  drive  the  life 
out  of  you! 

Simon.     The  Giant  that  brought  her  away  to  his  castle. 

Rury.     Why  did  he  do  that? 

Simon.  It  was  that  Hag  of  Wickedness  put  her  into 
his  hands. 

Rury.     What  made  her  do  it? 

Simon.  She  gave  her  to  be  bride  t6  the  Grugach  of  the 
Humming,  that  her  own  daughter  was  after  refusing  to  wed. 

Rury.  Oh,  my  first  love!  I  am  coming!  {He  goes 
following  her.) 

Simon.  I  would  give  the  full  of  Ireland  of  horned 
cattle,  the  lad  never  to  have  learned  the  nature  of  love! 

End  0}  Scene  III.,  Act  II. 


Act    II.    Scene    IV. 

Night.     Outside    Giant's    castle.     A    lighted    window. 
Guests  seen  inside  and  music  heard. 

Rury  and  Simon  come  on. 

Rury.     It  is  up  there  she  should  be  at  the  supper. 

Simon.  It  would  be  hard  come  to  her.  There  is  a  great 
troop  of  men  having  steel  suits  on  them  beside  the  door. 

Rury.     I  will  break  my  way  through  them. 

Simon.  What  way  could  you  do  that,  and  they  that 
close  as  that  they  are  touching  one  another? 

Rury.  If  I  have  to  kill  them  I  will  do  enough  of  killing! 
I  will  make  heaps  of  their  feet  and  of  their  heads. 

Simon.  You  would  be  no  better  off.  You  to  lay  a 
hand  on  the  young  lady  it  is  likely  the  Hag  has  put  spells  on 
her  that  she  would  go  from  you  like  a  bird  into  the  air. 

Rury.  If  I  could  but  bring  her  down  out  of  that  and 
steal  her  away 

Simon.  Here  is  some  person  coming  out  the  door;  he 
maybe  would  give  us  news  of  her. 

Rury.     It  is  but  a  cook  from  the  ovens. 

Simon,     If  he  is,  he  might  be  no  bad  friend. 

82 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  83 

Rury  {to  Cook).     What  is  it  that  is  going  on  inside? 

Cook.  It  is  a  great  wonder  you  not  to  know  this  is  the 
night  of  the  great  wedding.  A  grand  quality  dinner  that 
is  in  it.  The  freshest  of  every  meat,  the  oldest  of  every 
drink,  the  food  you  think  of  and  the  food  you  would  not 
think  of.  Myself  and  the  rest  of  the  cooks  are  destroyed 
making  and  baking  and  with  the  want  of  sleep. 

Simon.  I  never  saw  much  in  that  house.  You'd  get 
more  plenty  of  a  fast  day  in  the  King  of  Ireland's  servants' 
hall,  and  you  but  a  party  of  one. 

Rury.     Are  there  many  in  it? 

Cook.  There  are  that.  The  Grugach  out  from  Scot- 
land and  two  of  his  first  cousins.  Fatach  Mor  is  but  a 
chicken  beside  them. 

Simon.  He  has  a  bad  name  that  Grugach  of  the  Hum- 
ming. 

Cook.  He'd  be  a  bad  one  to  cross  or  go  against.  But 
as  they  are  now,  himself  and  the  Giant  are  as  great  as  two 
pickpockets.     Sure  it  is  the  Giant  has  found  a  wife  for  him. 

Rury.     She  will  not  wed  with  him. 

Cook.  If  she  does  it  will  not  be  of  her  own  fancy.  Any 
lady  in  Ireland  that  would  rear  a  son  to  that  one  would  be 
sorry. 

Rury.     Does  she  seem  to  be  fretting? 

Cook.  She  looks  as  if  she  would  sooner  to  go  drown 
herself  than  to  be  joined  to  the  like  of  him.  She  was  crying 
a  while  ago,  but  they  have  her  sorrow  hid  with  the  dint  of 
the  music  they  have  raised. 


84  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simon.  The  Grugach  now,  is  he  striving  to  come  around 
her  and  to  comfort  her? 

Cook.  He  is  not.  He  is  picking  the  bones  of  a  deer. 
He'll  have  time  enough  to  tame  her.  Himself  and  his  men 
will  bring  her  away  to-morrow  in  their  fleet  of  ships  to 
Lochlann,  or  some  place  in  the  North. 

Rury.     Will  you  carry  a  message  to  her? 

Cook.  I  cannot  do  that.  I  have  to  go  trying  the  ovens. 
There  is  not  a  tint  of  bread  left  in  the  place.  That  I  may 
be  forgiven  for  the  lies  I  told !  It  is  the  hungriest  feast  ever 
I  saw. 

Riiry.  I  have  here  three  cakes  of  bread.  Will  you 
bring  them  in  and  give  them  to  the  young  queen? 

Cook.  I  will  not.  It  is  a  kish  full  of  them  I  would 
want  to  satisfy  those. 

Rury.     I  would  give  you  a  good  reward. 

Cook.  What  use  would  it  be  to  me  and  I  after  being 
made  an  end  of  maybe  by  the  Giant  or  the  Hag  of  Slaughter, 
where  they  would  think  me  to  be  making  a  mockery  of 
them? 

Rury.  Give  me  your  clothes  and  I  will  bring  them  up 
myself. 

Cook.    Give  me  the  reward  and  I  will. 

Rury.     Give  him  out  money  from  your  purse. 

Simon.  Is  it  to  hide  yourself  under  a  cook's  suit  you 
think  to  do? 

Rury.  That  is  the  way  I  will  go  unknownst  through  the 
door. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  85 

Cook.  It  is  short  till  they  will  make  an  end  of  you  and 
they  to  recognize  you.  A  great  troop  of  the  Grugach's 
people  there  are;  Fawgauns  and  Blue  Men. 

Simon.  I'm  in  dread  that  by  the  walk  of  you  they  will 
know  you  to  be  one  used  to  giving  orders. 

Cook.  Let  the  clothes  be  put  on  yourself,  so,  that  is 
more  of  my  own  shape  and  build. 

Simon.  I  don't  care.  I'll  engage  no  one  will  lay  down 
that  I  am  not  a  cook.  I'll  go  in,  sooner  than  send  my  master 
to  his  death. 

Cook.  Here  now.  I'll  rub  a  grain  of  flour  on  your 
face. 

{Simon  puts  on  smock  and  cap.) 

Rury.  Give  her  the  cakes  into  her  hand — whisper  in 
her  ear  to  come  down  as  if  to  take  the  air.  I  will  bring  her 
away  in  a  crack. 

Cook  {to  Rury).  Go  back  now,  let  no  person  see  you 
watching  here. 

Rury  {going  off).  She  will  know  the  three  honey-drops 
on  the  cakes. 

Simon.  Is  it  to  knock  at  the  door  or  to  blow  the  horn 
I  should? 

Cook.  Not  at  all,  but  to  walk  in  fair  and  easy  and  they 
will  not  question  you.     {Cook  goes  off.) 

{Simon  is  going  towards  door;  the  men  at  it  fall  hack. 
Witch  comes  out  in  full  dress.) 

Witch.     What  is  your  business  here? 

Simon.    A  cook.     I  am  one  of  the  Fatach  Mor's  cooks. 


86  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Witch.     What  is  that  in  your  hand? 

Simon.  Three  caraway  cakes  they  are  I  have  to  bring 
to  the  young  queen  of  the  feast. 

Witch.     Take  care  is  there  honey  on  them? 

Simon.     Why  wouldn't  there  be  honey? 

Witch.  The  hall  that  is  guarded  with  a  swarm  of 
very  wicked  bees. 

Simon.     Do  you  say  so? 

Witch.  You  can  nearly  hear  their  buzz.  To  go  wild 
mad  at  the  smell  of  honey  they  do.  They  will  settle  them- 
selves down  upon  your  hands  and  your  eyes .  and  your 
head. 

Simon.  There  is  nothing  I  am  in  so  great  dread  of  as 
bees. 

Witch.  It  is  best  for  you  to  wash  the  honey  from  off 
the  cakes. 

Simon.     I  am  loth  to  meddle  with  them. 

Witch.  Go  on  so.  There  is  one  of  the  Blue  Men  after 
drowning  himself  in  the  stream,  where  he  had  hid  a  piece  of  a 
honeycomb  within  his  cap.  To  crawl  in  they  did  under  his 
steel  suit. 

Simon.    What  way  can  I  wipe  it  off? 

Witch.  Here  is  a  handkerchief;  it  was  dipped  in  soapy 
water. 

Simon.  That's  it.  {He  wipes  off  honey.)  Is  there 
anything  of  the  smell  of  it  left  on  the  cakes? 

Witch.  I  will  bring  you  in  now.  The  bees  will  take  no 
notice  of  you  at  all.     {They  go  in.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  87 

(Rury  comes  back,  looks  up  at  window.  Muireann 
has  come  near  it.  Music  is  being  played. 
Simon  hands  her  the  cakes;  she  looks  at  them, 
then  pushes  them  away.  Simon  comes  out 
from  the  door.) 

Simon.     I  brought  the  cakes  to  her. 

Rury.  I  saw  that,  and  she  would  not  take  them.  Did 
she  say  nothing? 

Simo7i.  She  did  not,  and  no  wonder.  Believe  me,  it 
is  a  very  strange  company  she  is  in. 

Rtiry.  Did  she  take  notice  of  the  honey-drops  on  the 
cakes? 

Simon.     The  honey-drops? 

Rury.     That  were  from  her  fingers  she  laid  upon  them. 

Simon.     You  had  a  right  to  tell  me  that  sooner. 

Rury.     Why  do  you  say  that?     What  happened  them? 

Simon.  To  wipe  them  off  I  did  at  the  bidding  of  a 
queen -woman,  that  said  I  would  be  tackled  and  made  an  end 
of  by  a  swarm  of  angry  bees. 

Rury.  Will  you  never  learn  to  know  the  Hag  of 
Slaughter? 

Simon,  For  pity's  sake!  There  is  no  beating  that  one 
for  plans.  It  is  a  wonder  that  she,  having  hundreds  of 
years,  can  go  through  the  world  as  she  does! 

Rury.     I  will  go  in  to  Muireann  myself. 

Simon.  It's  no  use  for  you;  it's  not  by  weapons  you'll 
reach  to  her,  but  by  wit.  If  you  wish  to  bring  her  down  to 
where  you  are,  give  out  mouth-music  on  the  pipe. 


88  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Rury.  That  is  a  good  thought.  {He  plays  ''Eileen 
A roon**  on  pipe.  Muireann  comes  and  stands  at  window ,  looks 
out,  then  tunis  to  the  door.) 

Simon.     There  she  is  coming. 

Rury.     I  will  go  meet  her. 

Simon.     Have  a  care! 

Rury.  I  am  done  with  carefulness.  {Goes  towards  door 
playing  still.  Two  men  suddenly  step  behind  and  fling  a 
cloak  over  his  head,  throw  him  down  and  drag  him  away. 
Simon  rushes  to  shadow  at  side.) 

Muireann  {comhig  out  from  door).  Rury!  Rury! 
Where  are  you !  {She  comes  forward,  her  arms  outstretched.) 
Save  me !     Save  me ! 

Witch  {coming  behind  her  and  touching  her  arm).  Do  you 
think  to  escape  me  so  easy? 

Muireann.  I  will  escape?  The  King  of  Ireland's  son 
is  here.     He  will  save  me  out  of  your  hand. 

Witch.  He  will  not.  He  never  will  stretch  a  hand  to 
you  again  or  look  at  you  with  love  in  his  eyes. 

Muireajin.  That  is  a  lie!  You  cannot  change  him, 
you  have  no  power  over  him !  It  is  he  will  put  you  down 
and  make  an  end  of  you  when  he  will  hear  my  story ! 

Witch.  You  will  have  no  voice  from  this  out  to  tell  a 
story,  or  to  give  out  any  news  good  or  bad. 

Muireann.     Oh!     What  is  it —     Let  me  go!     Rury! 

Witch.  Did  you  think  to  make  little  of  me  that  have 
worked  spells  from  the  early  days  of  the  world?  {She  holds 
up  a  disguise  with  cat's  head  and  paws.) 


'Rury!     Rury!     Where  are  you?" 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  89 

Muireann.     What  are  you  doing? 

Witch.  I  put  that  shape  on  you  through  the  power  of 
earth  that  holds  and  that  nourishes  all  shapes  of  beasts  and 
of  men. 

{Witch  is  about  to  strike  her  with  one  of  the  three 
rods,    hut    Muireann    rushes    away  from    her 

* 

through  the  gateway.  Witch  follows  her  and  a 
cry  is  heard  outside.  The  men  who  took  Rury 
away  drag  him  hack  again,  leaving  him  on  the 
ground.) 

Rury  {starting  up  and  throwing  off  cloak  from  his  head). 
Where  is  she?     Where  is  my  darling  and  my  love? 

Simon  {coming  forward) .     Where  is  she  indeed? 

Rury.     Did  she  come  out  the  door? 

Simon.     She  did  so. 

Rury.  Which  side  did  she  go?  {Muireann,  disguised 
as  a  cat,  creeps  in  at  gate  ajtd  goes  to  hide  in  shadow.) 

Simon.     It's  best  for  you  go  seek  her  outside  the  gate. 

Rury.     You  are  certain  she  has  gone  out? 

Simon.  She  came  down  out  of  the  house  anjrway.  You 
can  look  around  and  see  is  she  in  this  yard. 

Rury.     She  might  be  hiding  in  the  wood  without. 

Simon.  Come  on  so.  The  supper  is  over,  those  giants 
will  be  scattering  themselves  in  search  of  her.  Come 
on. 

Rury.  I  will  find  her  if  I  have  to  go  back  to  the  Garden 
on  the  Edge  of  the  World  every  step  of  the  way.  {Goes 
towards  gate.) 


90  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Muireann  {rushing  up  to  him).     Miau!     Miau! 
Rury  {shaking  her  off) .     Hoosh !    Hoosh !     Get  away  out 
of  that !    I  am  in  no  hiunour  for  cats ! 

End  of  Scene  IV.,    Act  II. 


Act  hi.    Scene  I. 

The  Garden.  The  tree  is  withered.  Muireann  and 
Gardener.  She  has  taken  off  cat's  head  and  paws  and  holds 
them  in  her  hands. 

Muireann.  That  is  my  story  so  far,  and  that  is  the 
cruelty  was  put  upon  me  by  the  Witch. 

Gardener.  Death  and  defeat  on  her!  But  what  way 
now  does  it  chance  you  to  speak  natural? 

Muireann.  There  comes  around  from  heaven  one  day 
in  the  week,  and  one  hour  in  that  day,  when  there  sounds 
through  the  air  the  Bell  of  the  Saints  out  in  Ireland,  that  has 
power  to  break  for  me  the  Witch's  knot.  And  for  that 
relief  I  give  thanks  to  the  King  of  Sunday. 

Gardener.  The  Lord  be  praised  for  that  much  of 
reprieve. 

Muireann.     Listen  and  you  will  hear  that  sweet,  holy 

sound. 

{A  distant  peal  of  hells  heard.) 

Gardener  {taking  off  hat).     That  it  might  go  on  for  ever! 

Muireann.     But   oh!     What  do  you  say  hearing  my 

case?     Every  time  that  hour  com.es  aroimd,  the  man  that 

is  my  darling  is  not  at  hand! 

91 


92  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Gardener.  The  grasshoppers  are  hundreds  of  years  old 
and  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  talk,  and  they  never  knew  so 
great  a  pity! 

Muireajin.     O  Gardener!  what  shall  I  do  at  all,  at  all? 

Gardener  {looking  in  the  well).  Did  you  bring  back  the 
five  little  fishes  itself  safe  and  sound? 

Muireann.  My  grief!  When  they  saw  me  in  the  form 
of  a  cat  they  were  in  dread  and  affrighted.  They  went 
from  me  with  a  leap  into  a  little  freshwater  stream.  It  is 
likely  they  are  lost  and  swallowed  up  ere  this  by  the  beasts 
of  the  great  ocean. 

Gardener.     The  poor  little  silvery  things. 

Muireann.  Going  from  me,  they  left  me  as  lonesome 
as  that  you  never  saw  the  like. 

Gardener.     No  wonder  at  all  in  that. 

Muireann.  It  is  my  sorrow  the  Witch  did  not  turn  me 
to  be  a  duck,  the  way  I  could  sail  along  with  them. 

Gardener.     If  Rury  the  King's  son  would  but  come! 

Muireann.  Oh!  You  have  knowledge!  Cannot  you 
so  much  as  rub  me  with  a  magic  stone,  or  boil  down  an  herb 
to  take  the  enchantment  from  me? 

Gardener.  So  long  as  she  owns  those  Three  Rods  of 
Mastery  her  power  is  stronger  out  and  out  than  mine. 

Muireann.  Then  I  am  lost  and  under  disgrace  for 
ever. 

Gardener.  Bad  cess  to  her,  and  that  she  may  have  her 
face  to  the  storm  whatever  wind  will  blow ! 

Midreann.     O  Gardener!  I  that  never  drank  out  of  a 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  93 

cup  not  having  at  the  least  a  silver  rim,  look  at  me  now  the 
way  I  am! 

Gardener.     The  King's  son  to  come  he  will  relieve  you. 

Muireann.  It  is  certain  at  one  time  he  loved  me — 
Yet  to  know  he  was  coming,  I  would  go  hide  myself  in  the 
fold  of  a  hill — or  my  heart  would  break  in  me  like  a  nut.  It 
is  bad  the  way  I  am!  It  is  best  for  me  waste  and  wither 
away! 

Gardener.     He  is  the  only  one  can  save  you. 

Muireann.  It  would  be  better  for  me  have  gone  to  my 
death  the  time  he  gave  me  his  love,  than  to  be  turned  into  a 
thing  displeasing  to  him.  Sorrow  was  never  in  it  till  now! 
I  have  a  bad  way  in  the  day  and  in  the  night  time.  It  is  a 
bad  case  I  to  be  that  way.  There  is  a  road  love  leads  to, 
and  it  is  that  brought  me  under  disgrace.  It  was  not  right 
of  the  witch-woman!  It  would  be  better  for  me  be  under 
the  sod  than  he  to  come  meet  me,  and  to  see  but  the  ugly  grey 
face  of  a  cat! 

Gardener.  He  would  recognize  you  in  spite  of  all,  and 
would  know  it  to  be  but  spells. 

Muireann.  O  Gardener!  It  is  what  happened. 
When  I  came  before  him  and  strove  to  call  to  him,  I  could 
give  but  the  cry  of  the  beast  I  am  under  the  shape  of.  He 
was  angry,  he  hooshed  me  off.  O  Rury,  it  was  not  from 
you  I  deserved  it!  I  left  a  drop  of  my  heart's  blood  in 
that  place! 

{Pampogue  comes.) 

Pampogue.     God  save  all  here  except  the  cat! 


94  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Gardener.  It  would  be  more  fitting  a  young  person  to 
be  kind. 

Pampogue.  The  next  time  the  King  of  Ireland's  son 
will  come,  it  is  to  myself  he  will  give  his  love. 

Muireann.  It  is  not  the  time  to  show  me  unkindness 
when  my  heart  is  closed  up  with  trouble. 

Pampogue.  They  are  saying  the  little  fishes  did  not 
trust  you. 

Gardener.     That  is  no  way  to  be  talking. 

Muireann.  It  is  not  the  King  of  Ireland's  son  will 
forgive  you  for  that  treatment. 

Pampogue.  What  call  have  you  to  kings  unless  it 
might  be  the  King  Cat  of  the  Western  Island,  that  has  you 
under  his  rule  from  this  out. 

Muirea7in.  My  thought  is  free  to  go  where  it  likes, 
and  to  my  own  father  that  is  a  King. 

Pampogue.  What  way  could  you  sit  and  eat  at  his 
table?  A  four-footed  thing!  It  is  a  red  mouse  with  the 
iur  on  it  would  be  your  choice  dish. 

Gardener.     That  is  beyond  all  measure! 

Pampogue.     You  have  your  own  business  to  attend  to. 
Herself  sent  this  out  for  you  to  put  up  on  the  tree. 
{Gives  him  board  with  writing.) 

Gardener  {putting  it  up).  What  is  it  is  written  on  it? 
The  sight  that  is  failing  on  me. 

Pampogue  {running  off).     It  is  but  to  scare  blackbirds. 

Muireann  {lookhig  at  it).  It  is  an  offer  of  a  fourpenny 
bit  to  any  one  that  will  kill  a  cat. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  95 

Gardener  {throwing  it  down  and  stamping  on  it).  That 
she  may  be  seven  hundred  times  worse  this  time  next  year! 
That  she  may  never  be  cross  until  she  meets  with  her  death ! 

{Simon  comes  in.) 

Muireann.     Oh!    Is  your  master  here? 

Simon.     We  are  after  climbing  the  wall. 

Muireann.     Where  is  he? 

Simon.  We  travelled  far.  He  is  washing  the  sweat 
from  his  flesh,  and  the  dust. 

Muireann.  Oh,  if  he  could  see  me  while  I  am  this  way 
he  would  not  turn  from  me ! 

Gardener.     Is  it  down  at  the  stream  to  the  west  he 

IS? 

Simon.  I  couldn't  be  rightly  sure.  It's  best  go  seek 
him  there. 

Gardener  {to  Muireann).  Go  search  for  him  before  the 
ringing  of  the  bells  will  stop.  {She  goes.)  That's  right. 
It  is  Rury  will  take  her  case  in  hand. 

Simon.  It  would  be  best  for  him  leave  meddling  with 
any  haunted  people  at  all. 

Gardener.  A  well-reared  girl;  a  great  beauty.  It  is 
well  for  him  get  her  for  a  companion  and  a  wife. 

Simon.  It  might.  I  would  sooner  a  woman  you  would 
trust  to  go  to  the  dairy  to  bring  you  in  a  drop  of  cream. 

Gardener.  She  that  had  a  little  blush  on  her  cheek  was 
redder  than  the  royal  rose!  It  would  make  you  sorry  the 
way  she  is  now,  fretting  and  bare  alone. 

Simon.     It  is  the  King's  son  I  am  in  charge  of. 


96  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Gardener.  She  is  as  nice  as  you'd  ask.  A  very  mannerly 
little  girl.  They  match  one  another  as  well  as  two  ears  of 
wheat. 

Simon.  I  never  would  like  cats,  if  it  was  a  whole  fleet 
of  them  was  in  it. 

Gardener.  You  are  talking  like  an  innocent  or  a  fool. 
You  know  well  until  this  spell  was  put  upon  her  she  was  an 
honest,  proper  woman.  I  never  saw  one  so  nice,  or  with 
such  a  coaxing  way.  _ 

Simon.  I  would  sooner  nearly  to  take  the  Witch's 
daughter  that  is  natural,  if  she  is  cross  itself.  To  go  with  a 
strange  thing  would  put  back  your  children. 

Gardener.  She  will  be  the  same  as  before,  and  the 
enchantment  taken  off  of  her. 

Simo7i.  I  would  not  wish  him  to  marry  a  cat-woman, 
and  she  having  a  pound  for  every  day  of  the  year,  or  a  divide 
of  the  three  divides  of  the  world,  the  same  as  Marcus 
Crassus  or  Pompey  of  the  Plain. 

Gardener.  He  is  in  pieces  about  her.  His  soul  is  gone 
into  her.     You  know  that  well. 

Simon.     He  is  ignorant  of  what  she  is  presently. 

Gardener.     He  is  death  down  on  her. 

Simon.  The  sickness  of  love  is  all  one  with  madness 
that  is  put  on  us  by  the  moon.  He  would  be  cured  with  one 
scrape  of  her  paw.  Crooked  hooks  on  her  hands,  and 
maybe  a  poison-claw  at  the  tip  of  her  tail.  A  very  trouble- 
some life. 

Gardener.     They  are  coming!     She  has  found  him! 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  97 

Simon.  What  way  did  she  do  that  I  wonder,  and  I 
after  sending  her  west? 

Gardener.     No,  but  it  is  Pampogue  is  with  him. 
(Rury  and  Pampogue  come  in.) 

Rury  {to  Pampogue).     Have  you  no  news  to  give  me? 

Pampogue.  I  have  not,  unless  you  will  give  it  to  me 
yourself. 

Rury.  It  dreams  to  me  that  I  saw  her  in  the  trees  beyond 
and  then  she  was  gone  like  a  little  breeze  of  wind. 

Pampogue.  She  is  gone  out  of  this.  You  will  not  find 
her. 

Rury.  I  will  find  her.  I  will  ransack  every  corner  of 
the  earth.     I  will  go  following  after  her  for  ever. 

Pampogue.  Why  would  you  not  stop  with  myself?  I 
will  give  you  all  my  riches  and  my  estate.  You  will  never 
know  trouble  any  more. 

Rury.  From  the  west  of  the  world  to  the  freshness  of 
the  world  I  will  search  for  her  in  every  place ! 

Pampogue.  You  will  never  find  the  woman  will  give  you 
love  the  same  as  myself. 

Rury.     {Calling  out.)     Muireann!    Muireann! 

Pampogue.  I  gave  up  a  great  match  for  your  sake.  I 
took  my  seven  oaths  I  would  take  no  other  man.  {Takes 
his  hand.) 

Rury.  Let  go  of  me!  I  have  it  in  my  mind  you  did 
away  with  her  yourself,  or  the  Hag,  your  mother!  I  give 
you  my  word  if  you  handle  and  hinder  me  I  will  strike  off 
your  head  with  my  sword.  {She  cries  out  and  runs  off.) 


98  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

{To  Gardener).  It  is  you  gave  me  a  bad  advice  bidding  me 
leave  her  in  this  place.     Tell  me,  where  is  she  now? 

Gardener  {tries  to  speak  but  cannot  for  a  moment) .  My 
tongue  that  is  turned  to  stone  when  I  strive  to  tell  the 
secrets  that  are  outside  the  world. 

Rury  {to  Simofi).     Did  you  see  no  sign  of  her? 

Simon.  You  will  never  come  to  her.  You  will  never  get 
her  in  hardness  or  in  softness ;  without  or  within ;  on  horse- 
back or  on  foot.     It  is  as  good  for  you  give  up  the  search. 

Rury.  What  was  it  happened  when  she  came  out  the 
Giant's  door?  What  did  I  bring  her  to,  playing  her  little 
pipe?  It  is  here  beside  the  well  I  first  saw  her.  The  worst 
thing  in  the  world  to  me  now  is  to  see  my  own  shadow,  and 
it  alone ! 

Gardener.  It  is  in  the  well  you  will  maybe  see  her 
shadow  again. 

Ricry  {kneeling  by  it).  Come  back  to  me,  and  it  will  be  a 
garden  again,  and  not  a  place  of  nettles  and  elder  and 
corncrakes.  My  grief  that  I  left  you  for  one  moment  only! 
It  is  long  to  me  the  night  is  and  the  day!  {Muireann 
comes  behind  him  and  bends  over  his  shoidder.)  There  is 
your  very  image  down  below- — your  shape  and  your 
features — there  is  a  mist  of  water  between  us —  And 
oh,  I  have  a  mind  to  throw  myself  in  after  you,  and  we  will 
be  a  King  and  a  Queen  for  ever  in  Land -Under- Wave,  and 
I  will  forget  father  and  country,  and  all  that  is  before  me 
and  all  that  is  behind !  And  if  I  would  do  that  for  the  sake 
of  your  shadow,  what  would  I  do  for  yourself? 


'Come  back  to  me,  and  it  will  be  a  garden  again,  and  not  a  place 
of  nettles  and  elder  and  corncrakes." 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  99 

Muireann  {in  a  whisper).  Rury!  {The  hells  stop  of  a 
sudden.  Witch  appears  behind  Muireann  and  drags  her  hack 
behind  trees,  putting  cat's  head  back  on  her.) 

Rury  {starti?ig  up).  Where  are  you?  Muireann!  {A 
miau  is  heard.)  Where  is  she?  I  saw  her  in  the  well.  I 
heard  her  voice.  I  am  certain  she  was  here.  Where  is 
she?  {Another  miau  from  hack.)  It  was  a  vision.  That 
cat  broke  it  with  her  miauing.  No,  no,  she  was  here — 
I  will  go  search.     {Witch  comes  before  him.) 

Witch.  Have  you  lost  from  your  mind  the  man  that 
is  watching  for  you  out  in  Ireland? 

Rury.  I  will  go  back  to  him  after  I  will  come  up  with 
her. 

Witch.  To-day  that  is  Lady  Day  in  Harvest,  in  the 
yellow  moon  of  the  badgers.  What  day  was  it  you  set  out 
from  Ireland? 

Simon.     This  day  year  for  the  world ! 

Rury.  That  cannot  be!  We  have  not  been  travelling 
through  the  length  of  a  year. 

Witch.  You  did  not  feel  the  time  passing  when  you  went 
stumbling  on  from  the  Wood  of  Wonders,  or  when  you  were 
in  an  enchanted  sleep. 

Rury.     I  will  go.     I  must  go  back  to  my  father. 

Simon.  Where  is  the  use  going  home  to  the  very  day, 
where  you  are  without  the  apple  for  his  cure? 

Rury.  I  will  go  without  it.  I  will  confess  my  disgrace. 
I  will  not  fail  him  where  I  gave  my  word.  Let  him  put  on 
me  whatever  punishment  he  will. 


100  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simon.  Sick  or  sound  he  will  make  you  welcome.  It 
is  likely  he  will  smother  you  with  kisses  unless  he  will  drown 
you  in  tears.  {To  Gardener.)  And  he  to  have  gone  out 
itself  and  he  lying  in  his  lone  at  Corcomroe,  it  is  my  own 
master  that  will  get  the  sway! 

Rury  {to  Gardener).  Give  me  some  swift  way  to  go 
home. 

Simon.  Let  it  be  a  safe  way.  I  have  no  swim  to  cross 
the  sea,  unless  I'd  make  a  boat  of  my  hat. 

Gardener.  Herself  that  could  put  a  swan-gander  be- 
tween your  legs,  or  shape  a  flying  ship  out  of  two  cross 
sticks. 

Witch  {to  Gardener).  Pull  up  for  them  two  stalks  of  the 
Bohilaun,  the  horses  of  the  Sheogue.  {He  brings  two  stalks 
of  yellow  rag-weed  and  gives  one  to  Rury,  one  to  Simo?i.) 

Simon.  Is  it  a  yellow  horse  will  be  under  me,  and  it 
having  four  green  legs? 

Witch  {to  Rury).  A  golden  saddle  on  his  back  and  a 
silver  bridle  on  his  head,  he  will  bring  you  coursing  through 
the  skies  as  swift  as  the  sun  and  moon.     {Pushes  them  off.) 

Pampogue  {comi?ig  and  looking  round).  It  is  you  sent 
him  away ! 

Witch.  If  I  did,  it  was  to  save  you  from  refusal  and 
from  shame. 

Pampogue.  You  got  your  own  share  of  the  joy  of  the 
world,  and  now  you  begrudge  me  my  own!  The  seven 
deaths  upon  you! 

Witch.    Have  a  care !    The  senses  are  gone  astray  on  you. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  loi 

Pampogue.  That  I  may  never  see  you  again!  It  is 
ugly  you  are  to  me  whatever  shape  you  may  put  on !  I  tell 
you  I  will  have  that  young  man,  by  paying  or  by  prayers! 
Let  you  give  me  up  your  treasure  to  buy  him;  you  have  the 
world  to  ramble,  begging  from  door  to  door! 

Witch  {holding  up  rods).  If  you  let  one  more  word  out 
from  your  mouth  I  will  strike  you  with  these  Rods! 

Pampogue  {snatching  them).  It  is  long  enough  you  have 
been  spreading  terror  with  these  Rods  and  bringing  myself 
no  profit  with  them!  That  your  luck  may  go  backward 
from  this  out!     {Flings  them  away.) 

{Gardener   comes   swiftly   and  takes  them.     Witch 
stumbles  and  sits  down,  her  head  in  hands.) 

End  of  Scene  L,  Act  III. 


Act  hi.    Scene  II. 

The  King's  Court  as  before.  The  King  is  propped  up  in 
his  bed,  looking  from  whidow.     Servants  with  him. 

King  {to  Servant).     Is  there  e'er  a  sign  of  him  coming? 

Servant.     There  is  not. 

King.  The  delay  is  very  heavy  on  me.  It  is  a  year 
since  he  went  out,  and  a  day. 

Servajit.  It  is  a  long  time  we  are  without  tale  or  tidings 
of  him. 

King.  I  am  very  sure  he  will  come.  If  it  were  not  for 
that  I  would  die  over. 

Serva?it.  It  isn't  easy  bring  yourself  in  the  door  to  the 
very  day  of  the  month. 

King.  He  will  come  if  he  is  on  the  ridge  of  the  world. 
He  not  to  be  here  by  the  heel  of  evening  I  will  know  he  has 
found  his  harbour  in  Oilean-na-Marav,  that  is  the  Island  of 
the  Dead. 

Servant.  There  is  not  one  but  wishes  him  to  be  back. 
No  life  in  the  place  and  no  coiu-age.  No  drinking  or  feasting 
or  giving  out  rewards. 

King.    What  time  is  it  now? 

102 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  103 

Servant  (looking  out).  By  the  shadow  under  the  yew 
tree  it  should  be  on  the  stroke  of  noon.  {Horn  heard  and 
hustle.) 

King.  There  he  is  come!  I  knew  well  he  would  not 
fail.  That  sort  is  not  in  his  breed,  and  he  of  the  root-stock 
of  kings. 

Servant.  I  am  well  pleased  he  to  have  brought  the 
cure. 

King.  With  or  without  the  apple  he  will  be  welcome. 
Put  now  the  chair  here  close  beside  me. 

Doctor  {coming  in).  I  came  in  and  the  dust  of  the  road 
upon  me.  I  met  with  delays  on  my  journey.  I  was  in 
dread  I  might  be  late. 

King.     Did  he  come  with  you?    Rury,  my  son? 

Doctor.     I  came  with  myself  only. 

King.     Did  you  pass  him  on  the  way? 

Doctor.     I  did  not.     Is  it  that  he  did  not  come? 

King.     He  not  to  be  here,  he  is  not  living. 

Doctor.     I  would  sooner  nearly  that. 

King.     Is  it  that  you  wish  his  death? 

Doctor.  Not  at  all,  not  at  all.  But  I  would  not  give  an 
inch  of  my  toe  for  a  son  that  would  forget  his  father. 

King.  If  he  forgot  me,  my  last  end  is  come.  It  is 
likely  death  did  not  forget  me. 

Doctor.  There  is  one  did  not  forget  you,  and  that  man 
is  myself.     It  is  I  will  give  you  lengthening  of  life. 

King.  You  will  try  no  more  of  your  cures  on  me  where 
the  apple  of  healing  did  not  come. 


104  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Doctor.     The   apple  is  here.     {Holds  it  up.)     It  is   I 

myself  have  brought  it  for  your  cure. 

King.     The  apple!     Is  that  it  in  your  hand? 

Doctor.  The  Golden  Apple  from  the  Garden  at  the 
World's  End. 

King.     Give  it  here  to  me. 

Doctor.     Have  a  care.     Do  not  be  in  so  great  a  hurry. 

King  {takiiig  a  bite).  Why  wouldn't  I  hurry  and  death 
being  after  my  life  like  a  hound  after  a  hunted  hare? 

Doctor.     It  is  to  choke  yourself  you  will. 

Ki7tg  {coughing).     Cut  it  in  small  pieces,  so. 

Doctor  {cutting  and  giving  him  hits).  Fair  and  easy  goes 
far  in  a  day. 

King  {eating).  I  would  say  it  to  be  running  through  my 
veins —  It  is  going  to  the  cockles  of  my  heart — 
{Eats.)  I  think  I  am  out  of  the  body  and  in  the  City  of  the 
Sun —    There  is  light  going  through  me,  and  heat! 

Doctor.  That  is  the  sap  beginning  to  work.  It  is  full 
up  of  the  virtue  of  the  Tree. 

King.  Springtime  is  come —  We  are  done  with  the 
nursing  mother  of  the  cold 

Doctor.     Here  is  the  heart  of  the  apple,  and  the  seeds 


King.     I  feel  in  me  the  rising  of  the  waves  of  Power. 

Doctor.  It  is  going  through  you  the  same  as  a 
flame. 

King  {sitting  up.  To  Servant).  Go  bid  the  cooks  to 
put  a  tail  end  of  beef  to  the  fire,  fat  and  tender.  Let  it 
be  roasted  rare. 


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THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  105 

Servant.  It  is  long  we  did  not  hear  an  order  the  like  of 
that.     {Goes.) 

King.     Bring  here  the  barber.     Let  him  put  a  face  on 

me.     Is  there  e'er  a  crumb  left  of  the  apple — or  a  pip 

{Bather  comes  with  basin  and  soap,  and  begins  to  shave 
him.) 

Doctor.  It  is  a  world's  wonder —  He  is  gone  back- 
ward in  age —  He  looks  elegant  in  the  face —  He  shows 
out  like  a  boy  of  fifteen  years! 

King  {being  shaved).  What  way  did  you  come  to  the 
apple? 

Doctor.  The  voyage  was  very  costly  on  me — ^but  no 
matter.     I  came  through  it  all  in  the  end. 

King.     No  doubt  but  you  saw  great  wonders. 

Doctor.     It  is  much  that  I  escaped  with  my  life 

King.  What  sort  is  the  Wood  of  Wonders?  Is  it  as 
terrible  as  what  they  say? 

Doctor.     It  is,  to  be  sure. 

King.  You  should  be  a  great  warrior  to  get  the  better 
of  the  Hag  of  Slaughter—    Is  it  on  a  big  tree  the  apple  was? 

Doctor.     About  the  height  of  the  house. 

Ki7tg.     What  size  was  the  Garden? 

Doctor.  Sizeable  enough—  Wait  now  and  I'll  tell  you 
about  the  great  fight  I  had  with  the  great  Giant,  Fatach  Mor. 

King.     Is  it  that  you  fought  with  a  giant? 

Doctor.    Wait  till  you  hear 

King.     You  had  great  courage. 

Doctor.     That   was   the   fight!    Blacker   than   a   coal 


io6  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

quenched  in  water  he  was,  and  having  In  every  rib  of  hair 
the  strength  of  a  hundred  men.     It  took  me  to  tackle  him! 

King.     And  did  you  put  him  down? 

Doctor.  He  never  was  flogged  before.  He  came  at  me 
as  strong  as  the  spring-tide !  We  made  the  hard  soft  and  the 
soft  into  spring  wells.  The  mountains  that  were  far  came 
and  looked  at  us,  and  the  mountains  that  were  near  moved 
away  from  us. 

King.     That  was  a  great  battle! 

Doctor.  "Come  on  now,"  says  he,  "till  I  will  put  you 
under  my  long  cold  teeth."  "Come  on  yourself,"  says  I, 
"till  I  will  make  snuff  of  your  bones!" 

King.     Do  you  hear  that!     The  bravery  of  him! 

Doctor.  We  fought  through  three  quarters  of  the  day 
till  I  put  him  down  in  the  stones.  He  called  out  then  for 
mercy.  "It  is  much, "  says  I,  "if  I  give  you  your  choice  of 
two  sods  of  earth  to  die  on " 

King.     My  grief  I  was  not  there  to  see  the  fight. 

Doctor.  With  that  I  struck  the  head  off  him.  It  is  much 
that  I  brought  away  my  life,  having  laid  the  Giant  dead ! 

King.  That  is  a  great  story.  It  will  be  told  after  the 
whole  of  us  have  left  the  world.  And  where  at  all  at  that 
time  was  Rury,  my  son? 

Doctor.  You  can  ask  some  other  person  than  myself. 
I  never  was  one  to  be  carrying  stories. 

King.  1  leave  my  orders  on  you  to  tell  out  all  that  you 
heard. 

Doctor.     Ah!     He's  young!     He's  young! 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  107 

King.  Mind  yourself!  I  am  getting  back  my  strength! 
Speak  out  when  I  bid  you. 

Doctor.  Oh,  it's  not  much  I  heard.  The  people  were  say- 
ing he  ran  wild,  rambling  and  courting —    He's  young! 

King.  Is  it  for  rambling  and  courting  he  left  me  to  go 
to  my  death? 

Doctor.  He  maybe  couldn't  make  his  way  home.  They 
were  saying  he  had  all  his  money  spent,  and  that  Simon  the 
steward  was  tricking  and  telling  lies  on  the  road,  striving  to 
gather  in  more. 

King.     He  was  maybe  in  need  of  it. 

Doctor.  So  they  were  saying — wild  living.  Giving 
out,  the  steward  was,  the  King's  son  of  Ireland  was  dead  in 
the  middle  of  a  bog.  Begging  gold  and  silver  he  was  for  to 
furnish  out  the  wake. 

King.  Is  it  that  he  gave  out  I  myself  had  no  means  to 
bury  my  son? 

Doctor.  It  is  but  humbugging  he  was,  to  gain  hand- 
money  for  himself  and  the  young  prince. 

Ki7ig.  That  is  queer  humbugging  to  give  out  to  the 
countries  of  the  world  that  charity  was  needed  to  put  a 
boarded  coffin  on  the  King  of  Ireland's  son. 

Doctor.  Ah!  the  young  do  be  apt  to  run  random  and 
they  out  foreign. 

King.  I  would  sooner  nearly  he  to  be  dead  in  earnest 
than  to  drag  down  my  name  the  way  he  did!  Let  him 
keep  out  of  this  to  his  life's  end ! 

{A  shout  and  music.) 


io8  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Servants  {rushing  in).     Prince  Rury  is  at  the  door. 

King  {with  a  roar).     The  young  vagabond! 
{Rury  and  Simon  come  in.) 

Simon.     Here  we  are  now  to  the  very  year  and  a  day! 

Rury  {kneeling  beside  bed).  I  ask  your  forgiveness, 
father. 

King.     That  is  what  you  will  not  get. 

Rury.     It  has  failed  me  to  bring  the  apple. 

King.     So  I  see,  and  that  you  are  come  back  empty. 

Rury.     My  grief  that  it  is  so. 

King.  Leaving  me  stretched  on  the  bed,  and  dragging 
down  my  name  by  your  doings !  To  go  begging  on  the  road, 
having  scattered  my  gold  and  banished  it !  It  is  much  that 
your  head  is  not  on  the  block! 

Rury  {getting  up).  That  is  the  best  sound  I  heard  yet. 
The  strength  that  has  come  into  your  voice. 

Ki7tg.  If  I  have  strength,  there  is  no  debt  on  me  to  you. 
Ireland  and  the  world  waiting  on  you  to  bring  me  the  cure, 
and  you  htimbugging,  and  foxing  death  for  your  sport. ^ 

Rury.  1  never  drew  bridle  or  breath  till  I  came  back  to 
you  on  this  very  day.     I  did  all  that  a  son  can  do. 

King.     Tell  out  so  the  story  of  your  doings. 

Rury.  Let  the  poets  tell  out  stories  of  me  in  the  time  to 
come.  It  is  what  I  will  never  do  myself,  where  you  did  not 
believe  my  first  word. 

Simon.  If  he  will  not  tell  out  his  doings  it  is  I  myself 
will  tell  them  out!  He  got  the  victory  and  the  sway  over 
the  big  Giant,  Fatach  Mor! 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  109 

King.     You  have  that  story  robbed  from  the  doctor. 

Simon.     The  doctor!     Is  it  that  he  is  in  this  place? 

King.  Here  he  is  beside  me.  It  is  through  the  courage 
and  the  kindness  of  that  man  I  got  the  apple.  He  has  put 
down  the  Giant  and  brought  away  the  cure. 

Simon.  I  partly  guessed  it,  and  now  I  know  it.  It  is 
the  doctor,  and  no  other,  that  was  the  thief! 

Doctor.     Stop  your  fool  talk! 

Simon.  Fool  yourself!  I  am  as  good  a  story  as  you  any 
day!  To  say  he  fought  the  Giant!  A  man  that  is  no  use 
at  home  or  abroad — ^that  is  not  worth  an  empty  box  of 
matches !  Well,  it  is  easier  save  yourself  from  a  rogue  than 
from  a  liary  person.     A  man  telling  lies  would  disgust  you! 

Doctor.  You  are  well  able  yourself  to  tell  stories  and 
lies. 

Simon.     You  tearing  away  our  characters ! 

Rury.  Come  away  out  of  this,  where  is  no  welcome  only 
for  thieves. 

King.  Whoever  will  say  that,  the  head  will  be  whipped 
off  him ! 

Rury.  I  will  not  come  back  again  till  this  flame  of 
anger  is  burned  out ! 

King.  You  will  not  go  out  of  this,  so  fiery  and  unruly 
as  you  are!  It  is  in  the  prison  you  will  be  lodged  and 
chained. 

Simon.  Let  the  doctor  be  lodged  there  with  us,  and  I'm 
content.     I'll  knock  satisfaction  out  of  him! 

King.     The  doctor!     I  would  give  him  the  kingdom  as 


no  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

his  reward,  but  that  no  man  following  his  trade  ever  wore 
the  crown  of  Ireland. 

Simon.  And  Rury  to  be  thrown  out  and  put  back  from 
what  he  has  earned!  I'm  like  the  people  that  loses  their 
mind  and  can't  remember  their  memory. 

Doctor.  There  is  a  plague  of  madness  on  him !  Let  him 
be  tied  by  the  five  smalls! 

King.  Bring  them  away!  {To  the  Guards).  Lodge 
Prince  Rury  and  his  comrade  in  the  jail! 

{Takes  Doctor's  arm  and  walks  to  door.  Simon  is 
dragged  towards  other  door.) 
Simon.  Oh!  that  doctor!  Give  me  the  trumpets  of 
the  guard  till  I'U  draw  down  a  curse  and  a  poem  of  venge- 
ance !  A  mist  of  misfortune  on  you !  Breaking  and  bruising 
on  you!  The  curse  of  the  weak  on  you,  and  of  the  strong! 
All  the  fevers  ever  you  meet  with  to  be  put  running  and 
racing  through  your  blood!  The  curse  of  all  you  cured  on 
you,  and  of  all  that  you  did  not  cure ! 

{The  cat  {Muireann),  which  has  come  in,  flies  at 

Doctor   and   scratches   him.     Doctor   calls   out 

and  rushes  through  door.) 

Rury.     Any  one  would  say  that  is  the  same  cat  was 

outside  the   Giant's   castle    the    time    I    lost    my    secret 

love. 

Simon.  Cat,  is  it?  It  is  no  cat  she  is!  I  will  tell  it 
out  now  she  befriended  us.  It  is  the  daughter  of  a  King 
under  spells  she  is.     What  do  you  say  now,  hearing  that? 

{Cat  runs  out.) 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  m 

Rury.    A  King's  daughter — what  is  it?    It  could  not  be 

Muireann  in  that  shape? 

Simon.  The  Witch  that  put  it  on  her  the  way  she  would 
lose  your  love. 

Rury.  Oh,  my  love  and  my  darling! —  Where  is 
she —    Where  is  she  gone? 

Simon.  It  is  likely  hiding  from  yourself  she  is.  There 
is  no  woman  would  wish  her  bachelor  to  get  a  view  of  her, 
and  she  in  a  shape  would  not  be  pleasing  to  him. 

Rury.     My  poor  Muireann !     My  blossom  of  the  branch ! 

Gar  dealer  (rushing  in).     Where  is  the  young  queen? 

Rury.  She  is  but  gone  this  very  minute.  0  Gardener! 
did  you  hear  what  happened  her? 

Gardejter.  I  did,  to  be  sure.  It  is  that  brought  me  here, 
to  deliver  her  from  the  power  of  the  Hag. 

Rury.     Can  you  do  that? 

Gardener.  Look  at  what  I  have  in  my  hand.  Her 
Three  Rods  of  Magic  and  Mastery.  It  is  with  them  I 
can  take  off  the  spell. 

Rury.  You  can  do  that!  I  will  go  then  and  strike  off 
the  Witch's  head. 

Gardener.  She  will  be  here  within  three  minutes.  It  is  easy 
to  deal  with  her  at  this  time.     {A  niiau  heard  outside  door.) 

Rury.     It  is  Muireann!     {Is  going  to  door.) 

Gardener.  Stop  where  you  are.  It  is  I  myself  will 
bring  her  back.     {Goes  out.) 

Rury.  That  Hag  to  come  here,  I'll  put  her  in  a  way  that 
she  will  enchant  no  more  King's  daughters ! 


113  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Simon.  I'd  ask  no  better  than  to  be  casting  out  to  the 
wild  dogs  her  three  crooked  bones.       {A  low  laugh  heard.) 

Rury.     That  is  my  darhng's  Httle  laugh! 

Simon.     So  it  had  a  sweet  sound. 

(Muireann,  led  by  Gardener,  comes  in  wearing  her 
fine  clothes.  She  and  Rury  hold  each  other's 
hands.) 

Rury.  Oh,  Muireann!  do  I  see  you  indeed?  And  what 
way  did  you  come  to  me? 

Muireann.  The  Giant  that  tied  me  in  a  bundle  of 
green  rushes  and  brought  me  here  upon  his  shoulder.  I 
was  in  dread  I  would  scratch  his  face. 

Rury.  It  was  for  my  sake  that  trouble  was  put  on  you 
and  that  torment. 

Muireann.  And  it  was  for  your  sake  I  parted  with  my 
little  golden  mitten! 

Rury.     Here  I  will  put  it  on  your  hand. 

(Noise  of  people  coming.  Giant  and  wife  enter 
leading  Witch  and  Pampogue. 

Simon.     The  Giant!     Is  it  pursuit  of  us  he  is? 

Wife.     Not  at  all.     It  is  time  for  him  be  getting  wittier. 

Gia7it.     It  is  a  qmet  Giant  I  am  from  this  out. 

Wife.  Just  a  common  peaceable  man.  He  wouldn't 
harm  a  child  in  a  thousand  years. 

Giant.  To  put  myself  under  the  King's  protection  I 
am,  where  the  Grugach  of  the  Humming  is  making  threats, 
saying  I  have  my  contract  with  him  broke. 

Rury  (to  Witch).     This  day  will  be  the  end  of  your  plots 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  113 

and  your  enchantings  by  whatever  way  you  will  be  put  to 
death. 

Simon.  It  would  be  right  put  her  under  the  same  shape 
she  put  on  another. 

Garde?ier.  Let  the  daughter  be  turned  to  a  rat  for  her 
to  be  skivering  with  her  claws. 

Witch.  Do  with  me  what  you  can  do.  But  I  ask 
mercy  for  the  girl  that  is  young. 

Wife.  Give  her  here  to  me.  We  will  want  some  one 
in  the  latter  end  of  our  days  to  mind  us  and  to  bring  in  a 
gallon  of  water,  or  a  thing  of  the  kind.  I'll  learn  her  to  be  a 
good  slave  and  a  good  washerwoman. 

Gardener.  She  might  get  better  senses  yet.  It  is  likely 
you  will  treat  her  better  than  the  way  she  treated  the  young 
queen. 

Witch.  If  she  must  work  out  her  punishment  let  it  be  a 
natural  one.  But  let  no  enchanter  ever  give  her  long  life,  as 
there  is  little  profit  in  it. 

Pampogue.  You  that  are  my  mother,  have  been  my 
enemy  all  through. 

Witch.  In  that  I  am  your  nearest  friend.  I  gave  you 
what  I  could,  and  little  good  it  was  to  you. 

Rury.     You  are  right  asking  no  mercy  for  yourself. 

Witch.  There  is  coming  some  change  in  the  world,  and 
why  would  I  go  on  battling?  I  am  tired  remembering  the 
string  of  years  behind  me,  where  I  made  no  great  hand  of 
my  life.  {She  suddenly  snatches  the  three  rods  from  the 
Gardener.)     I  will  leave  my  Three  Rods  of  Mastery  in  no 


114  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

other  hand,  or  the  joy  of  the  seven  spells!  There —  and 
there — and  there —  (SJie  breaks  them,  tottering  hack  to  door.) 
I  that  have  been  on  the  flood  tide,  I  will  not  wait  for  the 
ebb,  or  live  a  woman  without  courage  for  ever !    {Goes.) 

Gardener  {gathering  tip  the  pieces  of  rods  and  looking  out 
after  her).  With  the  breaking  of  the  Rods  her  power  is 
spent;  all  the  years  are  come  on  her.  There  is  nothing  left 
of  her  on  the  flags  but  a  little  fistful  of  bones. 

Simon.  Her  like  to  be  banished  out  of  the  world,  they 
will  be  no  miss.  In  one  way  or  another  she  had  us  all  but 
done  away  with.  {Guards  heard  playing  "O'Donnell  Aboo'' 
outside.) 

Giant.     Is  it  that  this  is  the  King? 

{King,  Doctor,  and  Guards  come  in.) 

King.     Are  you  here  yet,  my  thief  of  a  son? 

Riiry.  Your  son  is  here.  It  is  on  the  other  side  of  you 
is  the  thief. 

Ki7ig.  Have  a  care  how  you  make  little  of  the  man  that 
struck  off  Fatach  Mor  the  Giant's  head. 

Giant  {coming  forward) .     What  is  it  he  is  saying  he  did? 

Doctor.     The  Giant!     {Rtms  behind  King.) 

Giant.  Come  out  of  that !  {Drags  him  forwards.)  Is  it 
my  own  head  that  you  struck  off? 

Doctor.  Leave  me  go !  I  never  touched  you,  or  harmed 
you  at  all. 

Giant  {shaking  him).  Coming  to  look  at  the  red  of  my 
tongue  and  to  count  the  ticking  of  my  pulse —  Telling 
me  there  was  a  worm  within  me,  and  it  not  being  in  it  at  all. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  115 

Doctor.     Sure  I  had  to  tell  you  something. 

Giant.  Promising  me  the  Golden  Apple  for  my  cure, 
robbing  it  from  the  young  King.  Away  with  you,  after 
leaving  me  no  better  than  I  was. 

King.     Is  it  that  you  stole  away  the  apple  from  my  son? 

Doctor.     If  I  did,  it  was  for  your  own  healing. 

King.     I  know  you  now  to  be  a  very  roguish  man. 

Simon.  Let  him  be  put  in  the  jail  where  we  ourselves 
were  to  be  lodged ! 

King.  I  wouldn't  darken  the  jail  with  him!  Bring 
him  away  till  such  time  as  my  mind  is  made  up  will  I  send 
him  attending  lepers  as  a  present  to  the  King  of  the  Bogs 
and  Marshes,  or  will  I  hang  him  from  a  bridge  in  Dublin! 

Bury  {putting  hand  on  sword).  Who  are  these  strangers 
coming  in? 

Gardener  {bringing  in  five  young  men) .  With  the  break- 
ing of  the  Witch's  Rods  the  charm  rose  out  of  the  fishes. 
Here  they  are  now  before  you,  the  sons  of  the  King  of  Spain. 

Muireann.     Oh!     Is  it  that  these  are  my  dear  brothers! 

1st  Brother,     We  are  in  our  own  shape  at  last. 

Muireann.  But —  You  were  not  so  big —  You  were 
my  little  comrades  and  playfellows,  and  we  rising —  You 
are  grown  to  be  tall  young  men. 

1st  Brother.     It  is  seven  years  since  then. 

Muireann.  Oh,  you  can  speak  to  me  at  last  in  your  own 
voice ! 

Brother.  The  most  thing  we  have  to  say  to  you  is  Good- 
bye. 


ii6  THE  GOLDEN  APPLE 

Muireann.  You  must  stop  for  my  wedding  feast. 
You  will  not  refuse  me  that? 

2d  Brother.  We  will  indeed.  You  are  deserving  of 
every  good  thing. 

Muireanji.  You  will  be  going  home  then  to  Spain, 
where  our  father  is  at  the  end  of  his  days? 

1st  Brother.  Not  a  fear  of  us!  We  have  no  mind  for 
kings'  coiu-ts.  Aren't  we  after  wearing  out  enough  of  our 
young  life,  closed  up  under  water  in  a  pond? 

All  the  Brothers.     There  is  another  cause 

2d  Brother.  Whisper —  There  are  too  many  fast  days 
in  it  and  Fridays.  We  are  in  dread  we  would  be  asked  to 
eat  fish. 

1st  Brother.  We  have  the  Witch's  treasure  to  spend. 
It  is  to  the  Eastern  world  we  will  face,  to  go  leaping  on 
Arabian  horses  and  fighting  with  the  armies  of  the  Greeks! 
{They  leap  with  joy) 

King  {to  Rury).  What  way  can  I  make  up  to  you  at  all 
for  giving  in  to  the  doctor's  lies? 

Rury.  I  will  be  well  content  to  see  you  enjoying  long 
life  and  good  health. 

King.  It  is  likely  indeed,  if  signs  are  signs,  it  is  long 
till  you  will  be  handling  Ireland.  It  is  best  for  me  give  up 
the  kingdom  to  you  now,  as  it  is  well  you  earned  it.  You 
are  sixteen  times  better  than  the  lad  that  went  out.  Bog 
and  meadow,  fire  and  water,  I  will  bestow  it  all  upon  you. 

Rury.  I  will  not  take  it,  where  I  am  well  able  to  go  out 
and  win  a  country  for  myself. 


THE  GOLDEN  APPLE  117 

Muireann.  Why  would  you  do  that,  and  the  whole 
kingdom  of  Spain  being  mine?     {He  kisses  her.) 

Giant  {to  King) .  To  give  me  a  gate-house  or  a  thing  of 
the  sort,  I  could  be  of  use  lighting  lamps  in  the  streets  or 
putting  up  scollops  in  the  thatch.  I  am  near  tired  telling 
lies. 

Simon.  I  am  done  with  going  to  a  foreign  country. 
It  is  too  long  I  stood  upon  a  sod  of  wandering.  I  don't 
know  do  they  be  talking  Irish  out  in  Spain? 

Pampogue  {to  Muireann).  Will  you  pardon  and  for- 
give me  for  all  I  did? 

Simon  {to  Pampogue).  They  are  taken  up  with  them- 
selves. Who  knows  but  luck  might  turn  to  you?  I  might 
be  looking  for  a  companion  for  myself.  It's  a  lonesome 
thing  to  be  housekeeping  alone ! 

End  oj  Act  III. 
Curtain. 


By  Lady  Gregory 

Visions  and  Beliefs 

With  Two  Essays  and  a  Series  of  Notes 
by  W.  B.  Yeats 

In  2  Parts.     12° 

To  those  who  have  felt  the  haunting 
charm  that  inheres  in  the  Celtic  con- 
sciousness of  an  imminent  supernatur- 
alism,  this  collection  of  Irish  fancy, 
belief,  and  folk-lore,  gathered  with 
patient  and  reverent  care,  will  have 
particular  value.  It  has  interest  as  an 
exceptionally  thorough  and  representa- 
tive picture  of  superstitions  that  are 
still  prevalent.  Under  their  potent 
spell  the  reader  feels  his  own  incredulity 
slipping  away. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Seven  Short  Plays 

By 

Lady  Gregory 

Author  of  "  New  Comedies,"  "  Our  Irish  Theatre,"  etc 

12°.    $1,50 

The  plays  in  this  volume  are  the  following: 
Spreading  the  News,  Hyacinth  Halvey,  The 
Rising  of  the  Moon,  The  Jackdaw,  The  Worlc'' 
house  Ward,  The  Travelling  Man,  The  Gaol  Gate, 
The  volume  also  contains  music  for  the  songs  in 
the  plays  and  notes  explaining  the  conception  of 
the  plays. 

Among  the  three  great  exponents  of  the 
modem  Celtic  movement  in  Ireland,  Lady 
Gregory  holds  an  unusual  place.  It  is  she  from 
whom  came  the  chief  historical  impulse  which 
resulted  in  the  re-creation  for  the  present 
generation  of  the  elemental  poetry  of  early 
Ireland,  its  wild  disorders,  its  loves  and  hates — 
all  the  passionate  light  and  shadow  of  that  fierce 
and  splendid  race. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Our  Irish  Theatre 

By  Lady  Gregory 

Author  of  "  Irish  Folk-History  Plays,"  "  New  Comedies,"  etc. 
12°.     Illustrated.     $1.50  net.     By  mail.  $1.65 

The  volume  presents  an  account  not  only 
of  the  great  contemporary  dramatic  move- 
ment of  Ireland,  including  such  names  as 
those  of  Synge,  Yeats,  and  Lady  Gregory 
herself,  but  of  the  stage  history  of  the  Dublin 
Theatre  from  its  erection.  A  section  of  the 
book  that  possesses  a  very  pertinent  interest 
for  American  readers  is  that  which  has  to  do 
with  the  bitter  antagonism  which  the  Irish 
actors  encountered  on  their  first  visit  to  our 
shores,  an  antagonism  which  happily  expended 
itself  and  was  converted  upon  the  second 
visit  of  these  players  into  approval  and  en- 
thusiastic endorsement.  The  book  contains 
a  full  record  of  the  growth  and  development 
of  an  important  dramatic  undertaking,  in 
which  the  writer  has  been  a  directing  force. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


New  Comedies 

By 
LADY  GREGORY 

The    Bogie    Men — The    Full    Moon — Coats 
Darner's  Gold — McDonough's  Wife 

8°.    With  Portrait  ia  Photogravure,    $1,50  act.    By  mail,  $1,65 

The  plays  have  been  acted  with  great  success 
by  the  Abbey  Company,  and  have  been  highly 
extolled  by  appreciative  audiences  and  an  en- 
thusiastic press.  They  are  distinguished  by  a 
humor  of  unchallenged  originality. 

One  of  the  plays  in  the  collection,  "Coats," 
depends  for  its  plot  upon  the  rivalry  of  two 
editors,  each  of  whom  has  written  an  obituary 
notice  of  the  other.  The  dialogue  is  full  of 
crisp  humor.  "McDonough's  Wife,"  another 
drama  that  appears  in  the  volume,  is  based  on  a 
legend,  and  explains  how  a  whole  town  rendered 
honor  against  its  will.  "  The  Bogie  Men  "  has  as 
its  underlying  situation  an  amusing  misunder- 
standing of  two  chimney-sweeps.  The  wit  and 
absurdity  of  the  dialogue  are  in  Lady  Gregory's 
best  vein.  "  Damer's  Gold  "  contains  the  story 
of  a  miser  beset  by  his  gold-hungry  relations. 
Their  hopes  and  plans  are  upset  by  one  they  had 
believed  to  be  of  the  simple  of  the  world,  but 
who  confounds  the  Wisdom  of  the  Wise.  "  The 
Full  Moon  "  presents  a  little  comedy  enacted  on 
an  Irish  railway  station.  It  is  characterized  by 
humor  of  an  original  and  delightful  character 
and  repartee  that  is  distinctly  clever. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


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